


The Graham Dichotomy

by KinkSprinkles



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Accidental Cannibal Puns, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blackmail, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Kink, Drunken Flirting, First Dates, Flogging, Frottage, Graham Twins AU, Hand Feeding, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Hannibal, Jealous Will, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Multi, Murder, Phone Sex, Polyamory, Scheming, Seriously Smut From The Get Go, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn (with Will), Smut, Twincest, Wll Graham Is A Bit Thirsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 07:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinkSprinkles/pseuds/KinkSprinkles
Summary: The Graham twins might look alike but they're as different as night and day. And yet, Hannibal senses that they might have a certain inclination in common. It would be a shame not to collect the set...* * * * * *AU in which Will has a twin brother (read: bother) who meets Hannibal first. The rare talents and prickly charms of Will Graham, however, are hard for the good doctor to resist. Pulled both ways, he tries to manipulate the unique bond between the two twins so he can have the best of both worlds. Yet neither Graham is as easy to anticipate as he might have thought.





	1. Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> In which Hannibal gets some kinky strange. 
> 
> Because what better way to kick off the New Year than with a bang? Happy 2018, everyone. ;)

The annual fundraiser for the Baltimore Museum of Art was, as ever, a glittering affair. The champagne flowed freely, coaxing ever more generous donations from the cheque books of the wealthy patrons. Even the food was surprisingly up to his exacting standards. And yet, for once, Hannibal could take little joy in his surroundings. He felt uncharacteristically restless, an energy thrumming in his veins that no amount of scintillating conversation or beautiful artwork could dampen. It almost made him want to hasten the schedule on his next kill, though of course he was not that foolish. He had a plan for a reason. It wouldn’t do to attract undue attention. 

 

Still, he felt irritated by his unusual state of mind. His gaze fell upon the bar and, deciding something a little stronger than wine might serve to soothe him, he made his way across the foyer to join the crowd. Immediately, his eye was drawn to a man at the front of the queue. With a halo of dark brown curls, artfully trimmed stubble and the most intoxicating blue eyes he had ever had the pleasure to witness, the man was nothing short of stunning. His classic black tuxedo, whilst not the highest quality, fit his body like a glove, tastefully showcasing every smooth plane and subtle angle. In short, he was gorgeous, a Botticelli made flesh, and had Hannibal Lecter been a man inclined to gawking, he would certainly have done so. As it was, someone else was already doing that for him - a slender, blonde woman in her late forties. Hannibal recognised her as the wife of the museum’s curator. She was a notorious flirt when she drank, which was clearly the case now, judging by the shameless way she fawning over the handsome stranger. The man was laughing politely along with her, all smiles and surface level charm. His eyes, however, were devoid of any true warmth. Evidently, he wasn’t interested. 

 

Smiling to himself, Hannibal decided to intervene. 

 

“Ah, Mrs Wells!” he announced, deliberately loud as he stepped up the bar. “You look lovely, as ever. I believe your husband was just looking for you.” 

 

He didn’t put any emphasis on the word ‘husband’; he didn’t need to. The stranger’s brows climbed up his forehead and Claudia Wells flushed, looking for all the world like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

 

“Dr Lecter,” she breathed. “Yes. Thank you. I should go… go and find him. And thank you,” she muttered, with a sheepish smile, to the dark-haired man. “I appreciate you keeping me company.” 

 

And just like that, she tottered away, he tail firmly between her legs. The dark haired man chuckled, watching her leave with no small amount of relief. 

 

“That’s the problem with opera gloves,” he smirked. “Too easy to hide the wedding ring.” He turned his mischievous smile Hannibal’s way, blue eyes lighting up at last in amusement and gratitude. “Thanks for the save. I thought I was going to have to resort to drastic measures to get away unscathed.” 

 

Hannibal smiled, leaning casually against the bar in the space Mrs Wells had left behind. 

 

“It was no trouble,” he replied. “Having been on the receiving end of Claudia’s drunken flirtations once myself, I felt it was the least I could do.” 

 

The man laughed, a rich, warm sound that sent a frisson of delight up Hannibal’s spine. Truly, he was a gorgeous creature. Up close, Hannibal could better appreciate those frosty blue eyes, the thick lashes that framed them and the tiny silver scar that ran across his right cheekbone. 

 

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of seeing you here before,” he commented, and he offered the man his hand. “Hannibal Lecter.”

 

“Sebastian Graham,” the man replied, grasping Hannibal’s hand in his own. Sebastian’s skin was cool and exceptionally smooth, his handshake firm. He couldn’t have touched Hannibal for more than a few seconds but even that fleeting contact was electric. Something hot and primal stirred in Hannibal’s gut and he smirked to see its counterpart darkening Sebastian’s eyes. 

 

“Are you new in town, Sebastian Graham?” he asked, in a low voice. “I have to wonder how we’ve never bumped into each other before now.” 

 

“I moved here four months ago,” Sebastian replied, and, oh, the lazy, seductive curl of his lips was a delight to behold. “New job, new city, all that jazz. It’s kind of why I’m here, actually - the company I work for is co-hosting this little soiree.” 

 

“Oh? What is it that you do?” 

 

“I’m a lawyer,” he admitted, laughing at the brow that Hannibal raised in response. “Oh, don’t judge me too harshly! We can’t all be doctors. Am I to assume she meant medical doctor?” 

 

“I’m a psychiatrist,” Hannibal smiled. “Though I was once a surgeon.” 

 

Sebastian hummed, his eyes dropping to where one of Hannibal’s palms rested flat on the wood of the bar. 

 

“I can believe that, he purred. “You certainly have the hands for it.” 

 

And he smirked, making absolutely no effort to disguise the blatant insinuation in his tone. Indeed, Sebastian seemed to have no problem at all being upfront about what he wanted. His entire posture was radiating desire and, tonight at least, Hannibal found such boldness to be refreshing. Perhaps Mr Graham was just the balm he required to soothe his little itch. 

 

“You flatter me, Sebastian,” he murmured. “I wonder, would you permit me to buy you a drink?” 

 

Sebastian grinned, puckish and playful. 

 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

  
  


*

  
  


“Ah,  _ fuck _ !” 

 

A cry left Sebastian’s throat as Hannibal slammed him against the inside of his own front door. His heart was pounding, his cock achingly stiff in the confines of his trousers. The feel of an answering hardness rubbing against his thigh only ratcheted up his arousal and Hannibal growled into the mouth assaulting his own. It felt like far too long since he’d done this, longer still since he’d had a man beneath him, a lover he could afford to be a little more careless with. Sebastian responded beautifully to roughness, moaning, arching, begging both with his voice and his body. 

 

“ _ Hannibal _ ,” he pleaded, as he rutted against the thigh Hannibal had wedged between his legs. “God, you are going to be the death of me!” 

 

The older man just barely restrained a laugh. 

 

“I doubt that very much, lovely boy,” he purred. “I have a vested interest in your survival, after all.” 

 

Sebastian could only summon a needy whine, his hands grasping Hannibal’s backside and squeezing hard. Hannibal rumbled his pleasure as he dragged his lips down the column of the younger man’s throat. The scent of his skin, the rapid thrum of his pulse, was utterly intoxicating there. Hannibal couldn’t resist licking and nipping, sucking bruise after brightly coloured bruise into the creamy flesh whilst the man beneath him writhed. 

 

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed. “Fuck! You’re gonna make come shoved up against my own front door, aren’t you?” 

 

“It’s certainly tempting,” smirked Hannibal, and he rolled his hips, delighted by the moan it earned him. “I’d much prefer to have you in your bed, however.” 

 

Sebastian hummed his agreement as he stole another kiss, his hands sliding up Hannibal’s back to tangle in his rumpled hair. 

 

“Down the corridor,” he murmured into Hannibal’s mouth. “Last door on the right.” 

 

Hannibal braced himself with a grunt, his hands cupping Sebastian’s shapely rear as the younger man wrapped his legs around his waist. He carried him like that though his small but well-appointed apartment, kissing him greedily. There was only a slight wobble as Sebastian leaned back to twist the door handle and then they were collapsing onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and wandering hands. 

 

“As gorgeous as you are in that suit,” Sebastian panted, wrenching himself away from Hannibal’s lips. “I think it’s about time you lost it, don’t you?” 

 

Hannibal found himself chuckling at the other man’s bossiness. 

 

“Only if you grant me the same courtesy,” he countered. 

 

Leaving Sebastian a debauched mess on the bed, Hannibal straightened up and set about disrobing, neat but efficient. As he slipped off his shoes and socks, he allowed a moment to take in the other man’s sanctum - modern, minimalist, with dark, masculine colours and flashes of suede and leather - before he glanced back to the bed. Sebastian’s tie was gone, his shirt hanging unbuttoned off his shoulders. He boldly held Hannibal’s gaze as he slipped out of the sleeves, revealing a lean, muscular torso that just begged to be touched. 

 

“Beautiful,” Hannibal complimented, and he meant it. “And now the rest?” 

 

He folded his own shirt, setting it down on the tub chair next to the wardrobe. They both reached for their belts at the same time, each watching the other as they unbuckled, unbuttoned and removed their trousers and underwear in one fell swoop. Hannibal’s mouth watered at the long, rosy cock that sprung from Sebastian’s shorts. He was already leaking profusely from the tip and the unfettered scent of his need hit Hannibal like a physical blow. 

 

“What a gorgeous, delectable creature you are,” he growled, as he stepped out of his own trousers, hastily folding them and tossing them on the chair. Sebastian simply kicked his off the bed, making no attempt to disguise his eagerness. 

 

“Hark who’s talking,” he grinned breathlessly, as he crawled towards the edge of the bed. “I mean,  _ God _ .” He kneeled before Hannibal, steadying himself with hands on his hips. “I could just…” He pressed his lips to Hannibal’s stomach, kissing and licking a fevered line up to his chest. “Fuck!  _ Devour _ you.” 

 

Again, Hannibal’s lips twitched with the threat of laughter. Thankfully, he was distracted from his impending mirth buy the clever mouth that wrapped around his right nipple, biting and then sucking the sensitive flesh. Hannibal groaned, his erection twitching against his belly. Sebastian repeated the treatment with the left before slowly kissing his way back down again. 

 

“Mmm,” the younger man moaned, and he wrapped his right hand tight around the base of Hannibal’s cock. “Speaking of which…” 

 

Bracing himself on Hannibal's hip, Sebastian lowered his head to take him into his mouth. Hannibal grunted, the muscles in his thighs flexing, stomach tightening with the heady rush of pleasure. Instinct urged him to rut, to fuck up into the tight, talented wetness around him. Instead, he simply cupped the back of Sebastian’s head, running his fingers though those luscious curls. Sebastian hummed his approval, looking up Hannibal’s body through the curtain of his lashes. God but he was stunning. How a man could look so angelic with a mouth full of dick, Hannibal had no idea, but somehow this one managed it. His eyes, however - his positively dripped with sin. It was a dangerous combination and Hannibal could feel himself unravelling far too quickly for his liking. 

 

“Enough,” he grunted, with a gentle push to Sebastian’s shoulder. When the younger man simply pouted - as much as one could do with one’s mouth occupied - Hannibal huffed a breathless laugh. “As delectable as your mouth is, I have other plans for you tonight.” 

 

That got his attention. Sebastian eased off Hannibal’s cock with an obscene pop, sitting back on his heels and stroking him lazily. 

 

“I’m listening,” he grinned. “What sordid plans does the good doctor have for me?” 

 

Hannibal hummed, rolling his hips into the touch. 

 

“Several things come to mind,” he sighed. “Though I’m very much interested in hearing your input. What is it you want, Sebastian?” 

 

“I want this,” Sebastian smirked, and he squeezed the ruddy head of Hannibal’s erection. “Inside me. Filling me. Fucking me. I want to feel you when I walk into work tomorrow.” 

 

If the the touch wasn’t enough to warrant a groan, the words certainly were. Hannibal couldn’t have stopped the desirous noise that escaped him if he’d tried. 

 

“I think that can be arranged,” he rumbled and, dislodging the younger man’s clever, distracting hand from his length, he shoved Sebastian roughly only the mattress. Not at all to his surprise, Sebastian’s eyes gleamed at the rough treatment. His slick, swollen lips parted and he moaned as Hannibal kneeled over him, taking him in hand for the first time that night. 

 

“Oh, God,” he keened. “Fuck! Hannibal!” 

 

“You’re very responsive,” Hannibal smirked, adding a gentle twist that had the younger man arching off the bed. “Did sucking me off arouse you that much?” 

 

“You have no idea,” Sebastian whimpered, and he seemed torn between rutting into Hannibal’s hand and shrinking away from the stimulation. “I have, on occasion, been - fuck! Able to come from - ah! - giving head alone.” 

 

The desire smoldering in Hannibal’s belly burned a little hotter at that thought. 

 

“That’s quite the mental image,” he purred. “Something I should like to see, given the chance. However, for the time being, I believe we had other plans…” 

 

Sebastian nodded, his skin just beginning to glisten with a fine sheen of sweat. 

 

“Yeah,” he panted. “God, yeah. There’s a drawer in the night stand. Lube, condoms, all in there.” 

 

Smirking, Hannibal gave Sebastian one last stroke before he crawled across the bed to the night stand. In the drawer, he did indeed find condoms and lubricant, along with a pair of leather cuffs, a riding crop, a sleek back vibrator and several gleaming, metal plugs. It was nothing particularly shocking but the thought of the beautiful man beside him using any of these items conjured a wonderful mental image.  His smirk only widened and he glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow. Sebastian grinned. 

 

“I only want you,” he chuckled. “But I’m open to suggestions if something strikes your fancy.” 

 

“Right now, only you,” Hannibal echoed. “Though it’s always nice to have options.”

 

He took the little glass bottle of lubricant and a foil packet, shutting the drawer on the rest of the contents. Sebastian was watching him with glittering, lust-darkened eyes, one hand trailing leisurely over his own chest. 

 

“You’re eerily graceful, you know that,” he murmured, with a curious tilt of his head. Hannibal merely offered him a placid smile, leaning over the younger man to press their lips together. 

 

“Any particular way you’d like to do this?” he asked, with well-practiced courtesy. Sebastian shook his head, deepening their kisses in his mounting desperation. 

 

“No,” he breathed. “Fuck. Just… don’t be gentle about it. I want to feel it tomorrow.” 

 

Hannibal’s smirk was genuine. Gorgeous, foolish boy. 

 

“As you wish,” he promised. “Though you will still require some preparation.” 

 

Sebastian gave a sound rather like a whimper but he nodded, flushed and eager. 

 

“Ok, but no teasing? You’ve had me hard for you since you shook my damn hand.” 

Hannibal chuckled. A part of him - the admittedly sadistic part - was sorely tempted to push the gorgeous creature to the edge and leave him hanging there for hours. He’d be even more beautiful broken and begging, his body flushed with torturous passion. As it was, however, he was feeling rather impatient himself. The heady scent of arousal was fraying his nerves and, combined with his earlier restlessness, he found he had little desire to delay his gratification. 

 

So he opted for efficiency over flare, settling between Sebastian’s thighs and pressing a single, lubed digit against the tight ring of his entrance. Sebastian purred as it breached him, his back arching off the mattress. 

 

“Ohhh, yeah,” he sighed, and he ground wantonly down on Hannibal’s hand. “That’s it. Come on, gimme some more, I can take it.” 

 

“You are quite impatient, Mr. Graham,” Hannibal chastised, with a light smack on the other’s thigh. “You could benefit from a little discipline.” 

 

“From you?” the younger man chuckled. “You gonna spank me, Daddy?” 

 

Hannibal’s erection throbbed with a sudden and intense burst of need. For a split second, he could only stare, astounded by both the words and his body’s reaction to them. Then he was acting on instinct, surging up to slant his mouth over Sebastian’s in a brutally hungry kiss. 

 

“Filthy boy,” he snarled, and he thrust another finger rough up alongside the first. “I should whip you, never mind spank you.”

 

Sebastian keened, his eyes rolling back into his head in unmistakable pleasure. 

 

“God, Hannibal,” he whimpered. “God, I’m gonna come if you keep this up.” 

 

Hannibal had no doubt that was true. He could feel the tight heat around his fingers fluttering and tightening, feel the warm, wet slick of the other man’s pre-come sliding over both their stomachs. 

 

“Come, then,” he taunted, as he reached again for the lubricant, “but I shall be fucking you regardless.” 

 

The curly-haired vision beneath him sobbed as he added a third finger. Hannibal deliberately avoided the prostate, thrusting into him in slow and shallow motions and grinning when the younger man chased his touch. 

 

“Please,” babbled Sebastian. “Oh God, please! I need… Oh, I  _ need _ …” 

 

He was glorious in his delirium. Hannibal drank in the sight, committing it to memory to reproduce later in charcoal. 

 

“What do you need, beautiful boy?” he growled. “Tell me, or you shan’t have it.” 

 

“I need your dick,” Sebastian begged, without a hint of shame. “Please, Hannibal! I don’t wanna come without you inside me.” 

 

Hannibal hummed his delight, pressing his lips to Sebastian’s deliciously heated skin and nipping hard. As much as he ached for that too, he would have it on his terms. 

 

“Try again,” he smirked. “Use the word you used before.” 

 

A bratty whine burst from the beauty beneath him. Sebastian did his best to grind down on Hannibal’s fingers but the older man had him pinned fast. The most tempting blush bloomed on his cheeks and chest when he finally relented. 

 

“Please, Daddy,” he whimpered. “Please,  _ please _ , fuck me!” 

 

The words were more inflammatory than Hannibal could possibly have imagined. His cock throbbed and a savage sound escaped him before he could even think to temper it. Mindless with hunger, he reared up and wrenched his fingers from the man beneath him, grinning at the bereft wail he received for his roughness. A fresh squirt of lubricant and then he was slicking himself up, groaning at the stimulation. Sebastian watched him with hungry, hooded eyes as he rolled on a condom, flushed chest heaving, legs spread wantonly wide in invitation. 

 

“Shameless,” Hannibal hissed, as he pressed the ruddy tip of his cock against Sebastian’s slick, pink hole. He’d meant it entirely as a compliment, of course, and the younger knew that, if the coy duck of his head was any indication. 

 

“Please, Daddy,” he whined again, purposefully coquettish. “I need you.” 

 

Hannibal shoved in without further hesitation, the motion swift and merciless. Sebastian’s hot, slick tightness was almost overwhelming and he moaned, almost loud enough to be heard over the younger man’s sobs of pleasure. 

 

“Fuck! Oh God, Hannibal, you feel so big!”

 

He rolled his hips experimentally, whimpering when the head of Hannibal’s cock finally brushed his prostate. Hannibal drew back and fucked into him hard, again and again, establishing a brutal rhythm that had them both panting. Sweat began to glisten on his skin. The gorgeous boy beneath him writhed and moaned, wrapping his legs around Hannibal’s waist. Each sharp but carefully aimed thrust nudged his sweet spot and he shivered with overwhelming pleasure.  

 

“So close,” he gasped, as he reached for his own leaking erection. Hannibal swatted his hand away, wrapping his fingers him and stroking in time with his punishing pace. Sebastian wailed. “Fuck!  _ Fuck _ , Daddy, yes! I’m coming! Ah - AH! - like that-” 

 

And then he was clamping down, his back arching, rosy, kiss-swollen lips parting in a silent scream of ecstasy. The sudden, impossible tightness made Hannibal gasp, fanned the flames of his own pleasure into a raging inferno. With a growl, he shoved Sebastian’s legs right back against his chest, uncaring of the freshly spilled mess there. His rhythm only hastened and soon the entire bed was rocking with his movements, the headboard cracking satisfyingly against the wall. Sebastian began to sob prettily from over-stimulation but not once did he ask Hannibal to stop. A boon, for the older man wasn’t sure he’d have been able too. He was chasing his own completion with an animalistic single-mindedness, thighs trembling, sweat dripping down his chest. He felt the all-too familiar tightening of his testicles and he knew he was close. 

 

“Yes,” he hissed. “Sebastian…” 

 

The younger man flexed his clever, internal muscles and then Hannibal was coming too, a hoarse, wordless shout echoing off the walls. For a moment - a minute, two, several seconds, he could not tell - he was rendered senseless, the pleasure all that existed. When awareness returned, he was draped on Sebastian’s heaving chest, allowing the other man to tangle him in an overheated embrace. 

 

“God damn, Hannibal,” Sebastian laughed, breathlessly. “That was… wow…” 

 

Disguising a smirk, Hannibal lifted his head and glanced up at the younger man. He looked thoroughly wrecked and gorgeous for it - curls damp with sweat, skin dewy and flushed, lips rosy and wet and deliciously inviting. Hannibal indulged himself in a kiss, noting and quickly dismissing the stickiness smeared on his chest and stomach. 

 

“Was that… alright?” he panted, with feigned unsurety. “I can’t say that I’ve done it quite like that before.” 

 

Which was the truth, in a manner of speaking - he couldn't ever recall being called ‘Daddy’ in bed, of all things. More mystifying still was his own reaction to it but that would be something to examine later, in private, when the post-coital glow had faded. 

 

“Do you really need to ask?” the younger man grinned. “God, I’m not even sure my legs are working right now.” 

 

That time he did smile, placing a deceptively soft kiss on Sebastian’s lips before pulling away. 

 

“Then allow me to deal with the clean-up,” he murmured, and he sat up, pulling out in a slow, careful motion that made them both hiss. Despite his roughness, the condom had performed admirably, catching every drop of his release. Hannibal removed it gingerly, tying the end in a knot and slipping it discreetly into his palm. “I’ll be but a moment,” he promised, as he slipped off the bed. His legs protested being used so soon after orgasm but he forced them all the same, padding across the room to a door on the other side. As suspected, it opened into a small but well-lit ensuite, all slate and chrome and sleek lines. 

 

“There’s a waste bin under the sink,” Sebastian called, his voice drowsy and slurred. 

 

Hannibal located it easily and disposed of the used condom. Then, taking a fresh, black washcloth from the rack on the wall, he soaked it in warm water, sloughing off the drying remains of Sebastian’s ejaculate from his chest and belly. Later, at home, he would shower properly, but this would suffice for the time being, eliminating the stickiness whilst leaving enough of the heady scent for him to enjoy until morning. 

 

When he himself was sufficiently cleaned, he rinsed the cloth and took it back through to the bedroom for his lover. Sebastian, to his great amusement, was already half asleep as he sank back down onto the mattress. He couldn’t quite decide if it was a charming display of trust or simply incredibly foolish. A little of both, he suspected. 

 

“Dear me, spent already,” Hannibal teased, as he dragged the wet washcloth over the younger man’s lean torso. “And here I thought to keep you up all night.” 

 

Sebastian chuckled without opening his eyes, one hand closing blindly around Hannibal’s wrist. 

 

“Gimme a break, it’s been a while since I came that hard,” he murmured. “C’mere and rest with me a bit. Then, if you still want to, you can have your wicked way with me again.” 

 

“I suspect I shall often desire to have my way with you,” the older man smirked. “At least allow me to finish cleaning you up first.” 

 

A slightly whiny hum reverberated in Sebastian’s throat but he didn’t protest further, allowing Hannibal to wipe away his mess. A little of it had settled in the well of his navel and Hannibal couldn’t resist the urge to lower his head to it, lapping it up with his tongue rather than the washcloth. The taste was deliciously sharp to Hannibal’s refined palette. Sebastian squirmed and laughed, though he made no attempt to dislodge him. 

 

“Kinky bastard, aren’t you?” he mumbled, and Hannibal felt the words as vibrations in the other man’s belly.

 

“You have no idea,” was Hannibal’s reply. He straightened up, giving Sebastian’s stomach one last swipe with the washcloth before he returned it to the hamper in the bathroom. There was a growing fullness in the region of his bladder and took the opportunity to relieve himself, nudging the door shut for privacy. 

 

Sebastian was well and truly asleep by the time he returned to the bedroom. Hannibal shook his head, pausing at the foot of the bed to take in the view. With one knee bent and an arm thrown above his head, the younger man looked effortlessly erotic. Hannibal could happily sketch him like this too - would, perhaps, if the urge took him later. He wondered if he would have to do it from memory or if serendipity would afford him the chance to do so in person. Hannibal rarely entered a tryst with set expectations. Some of his affairs were long and involved, others brief and passionate. That was simply the way of it.  Admittedly, he hoped this one would be the former. Sebastian Graham was an intriguing man and there was plenty more he should like to explore with him. All the same, he would not be spending the night. It was unseemly and he had patients in the morning. 

 

After gathering his things and redressing, he located a pen and a memo block on top of the dresser. It took entirely no consideration at all for him to write down his cellphone number, along with a brief but tender message indicating work as the reason he’d had to leave. He bid Sebastian call him soon - vague, purposefully - and signed it with his initials. Satisfied, he placed the note on the nightstand, where it would be the first thing Sebastian would see upon waking. Then, after throwing a blanket over the sleeping man, he made his way to the door. 

 

The restlessness that had plagued him at the benefit was gone, replaced by the warm, pleasant glow of satisfaction. Tomorrow, perhaps, the wondering might begin, but for tonight, he left with the surety of self that he’d made enough of an impression on Sebastian Graham to hear from him again. 


	2. Mistaken Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting between Will and Hannibal and it's wrought with misunderstanding. 
> 
> Sebastian, unsurprisingly, finds it all hilarious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another update, because it's New Years Day and I'm too hungover to do much but sit here and write.

Will sighed, pushing the glasses that were slipping down his nose further up his face. It had been a long day, his lectures back to back since mid-morning, and, though he’d only been talking at his students (as opposed to with them), he found he was feeling oddly drained. The first stirrings of a headache were forming behind his left eye and he popped a couple of aspirin from the bottle in his pocket, swallowing them dry before continuing to pack up. As he tucked his laptop back in his satchel, his gaze fell upon the nondescript manilla folder that Jack Crawford had brought him that morning. The Chesapeake Ripper files. While the Ripper hadn’t killed in over a year, Jack was still pushing for Will’s insight, as though by staring at the photos, he’d be able to find something that he hadn’t the first few dozen times he’d seen them. No doubt Jack expected more bodies to appear soon. Will was half tempted to remind him that the Ripper had yet to leave a shred of evidence on his kills, and that expecting him to suddenly do so now was folly. Of course, one didn’t say such things to Jack Crawford, not if one valued one’s job. Or one’s balls, for that matter.  

 

Still, he took the files regardless and shoved them in his bag. Then, Will shut off the lights and made for the exit. The autumn sky outside was already losing light. With any luck, he’d be able to get back to Wolf Trap before it was completely dark - maybe take the dogs for a walk before raiding his woefully understocked fridge for dinner. 

 

As he paused to lock the auditorium doors, he felt a buzz in his pocket. A quick glance at his phone revealed a text message from Seb. 

 

**Hey baby bro. Fancy beer and burgers tonight? My treat.**

 

**< 16:37>**

 

Will huffed, shoving his phone back in his pocket and locking the door. He’d call his brother from the hands-free in the car. It was easier than trying to argue with him via text. As nice as a beer and a good, greasy burger sounded right now, he really wasn’t in the mood for eating out. Maybe take out, if Seb was in the mood for slumming it in Wolf Trap. He couldn’t see it being a problem. 

 

In the foyer, he dropped the keys for the auditorium back at the front desk. To his surprise, Alana was there, standing a little way off from the main doors with a slightly older man Will didn’t recognise. He was tall and exceptionally well-dressed, aristocratically handsome with his sharp cheekbones and shapely lips. He was also looking at Will over Alana’s shoulder, his face impassive but the slight crinkle of his eyes registering surprise. Will was so off balanced that he forgot to look away and he felt as much as saw the moment that surprise morphed into recognition. Something warm and fond took up residence in the man’s hazel eyes. He said something to Alana, punctuating his words with a squeeze of her shoulder, and then suddenly, he was moving, crossing the foyer to where Will stood, no doubt staring like an idiot. A positively wolfish smile curled the stranger’s lips; Will had to fight the urge to retreat several steps backwards. 

 

“Why Mr. Graham,” the older man purred, and the lilt of his European accent did something funny to Will’s stomach. “Fancy meeting you here, of all places. Serendipity favours me today, it seems.” 

 

And he took Will’s hand in his own, raising it to his lips and pressing a feather-light kiss to his knuckles. A blush bloomed on Will’s cheeks. Astounded, he glanced over the man’s shoulder to Alana, who was watching with a curious frown rumpling her pretty face. It was a small mercy that, standing as they were, she’d have been unlikely to see the kiss. He’d hate for her to get the wrong idea. 

 

Eyes snapping back to the stranger, he noted how the man’s expression was remarkably difficult to read. His eyes, however - his eyes were practically radiating heat. Will slowly pulled his hand away, shocked by the intensity of the desire he’d seen. 

 

“Sorry, but, do I know you?” he mumbled, and he prayed that he looked less like a bumbling fool than he felt. 

 

“Only in the Biblical sense,” the man retorted, with a wicked smirk. “I confess, I’m surprised to see you walking with such ease after last night.” 

 

Will spluttered as more heat rushed to his face, followed closely by a slow trickle of comprehension. Quite suddenly, he found himself torn between irritation - because this was far from the first time this had happened - and amusement - mostly because, for once, the guy was charming, rather than leering or pawing at his ass. He breathed a long, steadying sigh. 

 

“I’m sorry but I think you have me confused with someone else,” he said, with an attempt at a polite smile. “I’m  _ Will _ Graham. I can only assume you’re a friend of twin, Sebastian?” 

 

The man stared at him, his own smile vanishing and one perfectly groomed eyebrow raising in query. 

 

“If this is a joke, Mr. Graham, it certainly isn’t a funny one,” he said gravely. 

 

Will could only agree. Biting back the urge to roll his eyes,  he turned to Alana, who was still watching the entire exchange with mild bemusement. 

 

“Alana,” he called. “Would you care to introduce me to your friend?” 

 

Frowning, Alana began to make her way over to them, looking from Will to the other man and then back again and making no show of hiding her confusion. However, she did clear her throat and do as he’d asked. 

 

“Um, sure, ok,” she murmured. “Will this is Hannibal Lecter, a colleague and a dear friend of mine. Hannibal, this is Will Graham. I, um, might have mentioned him, once or twice, if you recall.” 

 

A colleague? Another psychiatrist then. Well, that certainly explained why the man was so hard to read. Even his shock was subtle. And Alana had mentioned  _ him _ already? Great. Just great. No wonder the guy had gone from befuddled to intrigued in a half a second flat. Will could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Instinctively, he dropped his gaze, looking at the man’s mouth rather than his eyes. 

 

“So  _ you’re _ Will Graham,” Hannibal Lecter murmured. 

 

“Yeah,” Will muttered, his amusement at the situation fading fast. “That’s me.”

 

“And your brother - your twin - is Sebastian Graham?” 

 

“Two for two, Doc.” 

 

“Wait,” Alana spoke up, and Will raised his eyes just enough so he could see her. “You know Sebastian?” 

 

She was clearly speaking to Dr. Lecter, who inclined his head in affirmation. 

 

“We might have bumped into each other at a recent event,” he answered, smoothly, though Will didn’t miss how he neatly avoided her eyes. 

 

“You certainly bumped something,” Will muttered, unable to restrain his smirk. Fortunately, it seemed Alana didn’t hear him. 

 

Dr. Lecter, however… Dr. Lecter held him in an implacable gaze, blinking precisely twice before a polished, courteous smile spread across his face. Will wasn't sure if it was attractive or alarming. 

 

“My apologies for the mix up, Mr Graham,” he said, with a slight incline of his head. “Consider me highly embarrassed.” 

 

Quite in spite of himself, Will found he was smiling in turn, though he couldn’t begin to explain to himself why. 

 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, shrugging his unencumbered shoulder. “It happens a lot. Seb’s scar’s the only thing that sets us apart and even that isn't all too noticeable.” 

 

He regretted the words immediately as two pairs of eyes roved over his face, clearly looking for a scar they would never find.

 

“Anyway, I better go,” Will mumbled. “Gotta get home to the dogs. It was nice to meet you, though.” 

 

He glanced up again, just long enough to be deemed polite. Not at all to his surprise, Lecter was still watching him, his expression blank and his eyes shining with something intense and unnamable. 

 

“It was a pleasure to meet you at last, Will,” he uttered, and his tone was so soft, so _ intimate _ that they might as well have been the only people in the room.  “Do convey my best to your brother.” 

 

Will barely restrained a snort. 

 

“Oh, I will,” he grimaced. “Take care, Dr. Lecter. Alana.” 

 

He glanced at the woman, who waved sweetly, if a little awkwardly. 

 

“Bye, Will!” she called. “See you Monday.”

 

Turning away, Will jerked a hand over his shoulder in something akin to a wave of his own. However, he did not look back, all too aware of the weight of Hannibal Lecter’s eyes on his retreating back. He very nearly jogged through the parking lot, not slowing his pace until he’d thrown himself into his car and pulled out his phone. He let it sync to the hands-free system as he started the engine and he had his brother’s number dialled by the time he was pulling out of Quantico. 

 

“You are the fucking bane of my life, you know that?” he snapped, the second Sebastian picked up the phone. A laugh resounded from the other end of the line; Will could practically see him grinning. 

 

“ _ And a good afternoon to you too, baby brother _ ,”  Sebastian crooned. “W _ hat’s crawled up your ass today _ ? 

 

Will frowned at the choice of words. 

 

“Nothing,” he muttered. “It’s more a case of what’s gotten into yours.” 

 

“ _ I’m sorry? _ ” 

 

“You should be! I just bumped into the guy you fucked last night.” 

 

There was a moment of silence and then,

 

“ _ Are you kidding? _ ” Sebastian sounded uncomfortable, concerned even. “ _ You saw Hannibal _ ?”

“Yeah,” Will sighed. “It would appear he’s friends with someone I work with. Looked like he was meeting her in the lobby as I was on my way out.” 

 

His brother seemed mollified by that. 

 

“ _ No shit? _ ” he chuckled. “ _ Small world, huh! _ ” 

 

“Oh, isn’t it _ , _ ” Will growled. “Anyway, as you can imagine, the minute he saw me, he thought I was you.” 

 

A raucous laugh echoed over the car’s speakers. Will scowled as he pulled onto the I-95. 

 

_ “I’d say I was sorry _ ,” his brother began, once he’d managed to compose himself a little. “ _ But, damn, you saw him. Did he give you a kiss hello? _ ” 

 

“No, but he said I was walking well for a man who got his ass pounded last night.”

 

“ _ Get fucked, he did not say that!”  _

 

“Well, not in precisely those words,” Will admitted, and he felt his lips finally quirking in a begrudging smile. “Words to that effect though. Damn it, Seb, do we need to start writing ut a disclaimer or something for when you hook up? This isn't the first time something like this has happened.” 

 

Sebastian groaned. 

 

“ _ I know, _ ” he muttered down the line, and it soothed Will further that he sounded genuinely remorseful. “ _ I’m sorry, it’s not like I invite to happen _ .” There was a beat of silence. Then, sheepishly, “ _ Are you mad _ ?” 

 

Will sighed.

 

“No. I’m not mad.” 

 

“ _ You still wanna get those beers? _ ” 

 

Will contemplated it. He hadn’t been in the mood to go out, that had been certain. However, after the little exchange in the foyer, he found he was craving a good, stiff drink. With Seb paying, and no work to worry about in the morning, he supposed he could go for letting off a bit of steam. 

 

“Yeah, why not,” he agreed, with a pointless shrug - it wasn’t like Seb could see it. “I’m not driving to Baltimore though.” 

 

“ _ That’s fine. I’ll come to you. That steakhouse near Tyson’s has a pretty decent menu. _ ” 

 

“Sure. See you soon, I guess.” 

 

Will disconnected the call, marvelling at how, in spite of his reticence, Sebastian always managed to coax him into being sociable. Though he supposed going out for beers with his twin wasn’t the same as properly socialising. It was different with Seb; it always had been. Talking to him, existing in the same space, had never felt like work. His was about the only company he could tolerate, even in his worst moods - providing he wasn't deliberately being an ass, of course. 

 

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. 16:59. He had about forty-five minutes left on the road, provided the traffic was good. The dogs needed feeding and walking, if only briefly. And he could probably do with a shower before heading out; standing at the front of a room full of people had a tendency to make him sweat. 

 

Sighing, he switched over into the fast lane and put his foot on the gas. 

 

Going out was a lot of work. He had no idea how Sebastian managed it. 

  
  


*

  
  


Sebastian hadn’t been kidding: the food at TJ’s Steakhouse and Grill was delicious. Will groaned around an ambitious mouthful of his bbq bacon cheeseburger, thankful for the fact they they’d picked a corner booth. No one needed to witness the greasy mess that was Will Graham right now - nor did they need to hear the frankly pornographic sounds he was making over his food. 

 

Across from him, Sebastian grinned and handed him a thick paper napkin. 

 

“So,” his twin began, conversationally. “Did he say anything about me?” 

 

Will swallowed thickly, dabbing at the corner of his mouth. He almost asked who but one glance at the ill-concealed hope in his brother’s face and he knew precisely which ‘he’ was being referenced. 

 

“Not much,” Will shrugged. “He didn’t strike me as the ‘kiss and tell’ type. Why?” 

 

Sebastian sighed, setting his fork down. 

 

“He kind of snuck out after I fell asleep,” he admitted, and Will winced sympathetically. “I mean, he was apologetic,” he added, hastily. “Left me a note and his number. I’m just wondering how long to leave it before I call him.” 

 

He took a long pull from his beer, draining the bottle and signalling the waitress for a couple more. Will snorted, shaking his head. 

 

“It never fails to amuse when you come to  _ me _ for advice on this,” he chuckled, and he reached for his own drink. “That said, I don’t need to be an expert to point out that neither of you are teenage girls. So why not drop the games and just call him, if that’s what you want?” 

 

For a moment, Seb simply stared at him, brow raised. Then, his lips curled in a smirk and he chuckled. 

 

“You know what? You’re right,” he grinned. “Fuck it, I’m gonna text him now.” 

 

Will watched in fond amusement as his brother pulled his phone from his pocket and began to tap out a message. For all his tom-catting, it wasn't often Will saw Seb talk about a guy with such open, unguarded enthusiasm. He thought back on his brief meeting with the doctor and wondered what it was that had Sebastian so smitten. The man was good looking, certainly, charming and charismatic too. He supposed he could get the surface appeal, though he had to wonder what Sebastian would truly have in common with an affluent psychiatrist - a kind of stuffy, intense-seeming one, at that. 

 

“He knew who I was, y’know,” he murmured, sipping at his beer. 

 

Sebastian was smirking at his phone screen and it took him a moment to respond. When he did, he glanced up with a frown, slipping the device back in his pocket. 

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, quietly. 

 

“I mean, he’d heard of me,” Will went on. “He’s a shrink too, right? You know how they talk.” 

 

His twin nodded, his expression morphing into something fierce and protective. 

 

“Yeah, I recall. Don’t worry, Will. I like him but I’m not about to sell you out. I promised I would never let someone treat you like a sideshow again and I fucking meant it.” He stabbed viciously at a french fry on his plate, spearing it with his fork. 

 

“Even if it means saying no to some mind-bending shrink sex?” Will ventured, carefully, and he was pleased when his brother huffed out a laugh. 

 

“Shockingly, yes,” grinned Seb. “Though I won’t lie, I’d be pissed for a while. He is really,  _ really _ good.” 

 

He lifted the french fry to his lips, sucking suggestively on the end until Will groaned. 

 

“Christ, spare me,” the younger twin groaned. “You’re fucking gross.” 

 

Sebastian winked. 

 

“You know it, baby bro,” he purred. “You know it. Now finish your burger. You’re looking a little skinny and I can’t have you letting the side down.” 

 

Will chucked an onion ring at him. 

 

“Dick.” 

  
  
  



	3. Phone Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is impatient to see Hannibal again. Cue an impromptu dirty phone call. 
> 
> A few days later, they manage to arrange a proper date. Sebastian opens up about his bond with Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW - talk of sibling incest. Though if that's an issue, i'd highly advise giving this fic a miss. It's a pretty consistent theme.

Sebastian shrugged out of his coat with a sigh, draping it over the back of the back of the sofa. He contemplated flicking a few lamps on but, frankly, he didn’t see the point. The lights of the city pouring in through the full-length windows served well enough to illuminate the room. And, if he were honest with himself, the darkness better suited his mood. He  _ hated _ working late. Oh, he enjoyed his job just fine, but it afforded him little opportunity to pursue his more hedonistic interests. Less so when it crept out of its usually well-maintained boundaries and bleeded over into his personal time. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the time: 22:41. Far too late to be doing anything worthwhile. Yet another precious evening wasted. Thankfully, the acquisition contract they’d been staying late to finish would be done with by lunchtime. Perhaps, tomorrow, he might have more exciting prospects than dredging over tedious legislation. 

 

He made to stow his phone again when a message notification caught his eye. He vaguely remembered it buzzing earlier but he hadn’t had chance to check it. To his delight, he discovered another reply from Hannibal Lecter. 

 

**Working again? What a pity. I’d very much hoped to see you. Perhaps I can have you for dinner before the week is out?**

 

**< 20:22>**

 

Sebastian grinned. He’d been texting the gorgeous psychiatrist since Friday night but, thus far, conflicting schedules had meant no chance of a meet-up. He’d been half-expecting the man to be annoyed at Sebastian blowing him off again but it seemed Dr. Lecter was a man of unfailing patience. 

 

Without even thinking about it, he was tapping on the doctor’s contact details and then the little green ‘call’ button. Hannibal answered after three rings. 

 

“Mr. Graham,” his exotic voice rumbled into Sebastian’s ear. “I was beginning to think you were playing hard to get.” 

 

He sounded surprised but pleasantly so and Sebastian could feel some of the coiling tension leaving his body.

 

“Hey,” he beamed. “Sorry about that. It’s been a pretty hectic evening. Am I disturbing you?” 

 

“Not at all. I was just indulging in a glass of brandy.” 

 

Seb smiled to himself. He could just picture Hannibal sitting in front of a roaring fire, swirling a fine-cut crystal glass of brandy in his hand. The man was elegance defined. 

 

“You know, that sounds like an excellent idea,” he chuckled. “I think I might join you.” He eased himself out of his armchair, meandering over to the sideboard that served as his personal bar. “Though I might have to sub the brandy for scotch,” he admitted, uncorking the decanter with one hand. “My boss depleted my stocks the last time he came over to pick my brain and I’ve yet to replenish it.” 

 

“How rude of him,” admonished Hannibal, though Seb could hear the smirk in his voice. “Are you only just getting home, Sebastian?” 

 

“Yeah. International acquisitions are always a minefield of bureaucracy but this one’s really taking the biscuit. Thank God it’s almost done with.” 

 

Sebastian heard a contemplative hum. 

 

“It’s been a long day for you,” the older man rumbled. “ I hope your firm compensate your hard work accordingly. Do they at least feed you when you’re forced to toil late into the night?” 

 

“They do,” Sebastian affirmed, perching on the sofa and sipping frugally at his scotch. “Though I might have skipped out on dinner tonight. Thought I’d get away sooner if I just kept working. Shows what I know.” 

 

“That’s a terrible habit, Mr. Graham. Whatever am I to do with you?” 

 

There was playful admonishment in Hannibal’s tone and it sent a ripple of delight down Sebastian’s spine. The younger man bit his lip, smirking into the dark room. 

 

“Oh, you can’t say things like that,” he chuckled. “Not when you’re in no position to act on them.” 

 

“Who says I can’t?” retorted Hannibal. “You are alone, yes?” 

 

Heat stirred in Sebastian’s belly, fingers tightening on his glass.  

 

“Yeah,” he whispered. 

 

“Good. Then remove your trousers.” 

 

“Oh fuck…” 

 

The doctor’s tone was firm, brooking no argument, and Sebastian found himself scrabbling to obey at once. He set his scotch down on the mahogany end table and used his newly freed hand to tug open his belt, shoving both his boxers and his trousers down to his knees. 

 

“I confess,” Hannibal purred into the phone, and fuck, if his voice wasn’t like a physical caress, coaxing him into hardness. “I have been thinking of you frequently tonight.” 

 

Sebastian groaned. 

 

“Now there’s an image,” he laughed, breathily. “Have you come?” 

 

“Not yet,” the older man admitted, a smile in his voice. 

 

But you’re hard?” 

 

“Incredibly so.” 

 

“Fuck,” Seb whimpered, with a hot surge of want that went right to his cock. He could just imagine Hannibal sitting in his fancy living room, one hand just cupping an obscene bulge in his well-tailored pants. The very thought sent his pulse racing. “Fuck, Daddy, my mouth is watering at the thought of your dick,” he admitted. “Wish I could suck it.” 

 

There it was again - the ‘D’ word. He hadn't really meant to say it out loud the first time but there was something about the older man that and his dominant aura that just made it irresistible. He could hardly regret it either, not when it had Hannibal growling down the phone at him, the sounds of rustling fabric and clinking metal making it quite clear what he was doing. 

 

“Touch yourself,” Hannibal commanded, roughly. “Tell me how you feel.” 

 

Obediently, Sebastian wrapped his free hand around his length. A grunt of pleasure left his lips and he squeezed once before stroking upwards. 

 

“Ugh, I’m so hard already,” he breathed. “I think I could come from your voice alone.” 

 

“A hypothesis I am more than happy to test.” 

 

Rolling his hips, Sebastian began a steady rhythm. 

 

“Really? Now?” 

 

Hannibal’s chuckle was sinful. 

 

“No, darling boy. Not now,” he murmured. “I wouldn't want to miss seeing such a spectacle in person. For now, I am content to simply hear you unravel. Tell me, what are you thinking of?”

 

“You,” the younger man answered, honestly. “Fuck, Hannibal. Just you. Are you touching yourself too?”

 

The deep, reverberating groan on the other end of the line was answer enough. 

 

“Yes,” Hannibal responded, after a moment’s pause. “I find myself recalling the feel of your wicked tongue. Wondering if you could climax from my using your face.” 

 

Sebastian whimpered, fisting his cock a little harder. 

 

“God, yes. I’d love that. You felt so good in my mouth the other night. I’d happily have that cock down my throat all night long.” 

 

“Are you admitting to an oral fixation, Sebastian?” 

 

A breathless laugh bubbled up Seb’s throat. He thumbed the head of his erection, gathering the fluid that was already starting to form there and smearing it over his skin. 

 

“I might be,” he muttered, cheekily.  “Are you psychoanalysing me whilst we’re having phone sex?”

 

“I might be.” 

 

“Mmm, hot,” Sebastian grinned, before giving way to another helpless sound of pleasure. “God, this is so filthy,” he marvelled. “Have you come since Thursday?” 

 

There a moment of quiet on the other end of the line, where Sebastian imagined he could hear the crackle of a fire and, more notably, the slick sounds of skin on skin, 

 

“I have,” admitted Hannibal, eventually, and his voice was beginnning to sound a little strained. “I will admit, since our encounter, I’ve found myself somewhat…"

 

“Horny as fuck?” Sebastian supplied, with a salacious smile he knew the other man would pick up on. 

 

To his delight, Hannibal uttered a soft laugh. 

 

“Not the words I would have chosen,” he breathed. “But I cannot disagree with the sentiment. You appear to have stirred up my appetite, Mr. Graham.” 

 

The admission pleased Sebastian, who had found himself feeling very much the same way. 

 

“Yeah, me too,” he groaned. “Surprised I don’t have an RSI.” Seb flexed his hips, rutting into his increasingly slippery fist. He could feel his orgasm building in his gut and, God, he had no desire to draw it out. “You getting close?” he panted. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Me too. _ Fuck. _ Wish you were here to fill me up, Daddy.” 

 

Another growl from Hannibal’s end of the phone. 

 

“I would take great pleasure in it, beautiful boy,” the older man hissed. “Your body is so very accommodating.” 

 

That prompted a feverish whine from Sebastian, the sort of noise he’d have been embarrassed about had he not been so desperately aroused. Throwing back his head, he began to work himself at a merciless pace, gasping when the pleasure in his gut swirled and sharpened. 

 

“Oh God, I’m gonna come,” he whimpered. “ _ Fuck _ …”

 

He heard Hannibal’s groan in his ear and felt his muscles clench in eager anticipation. 

 

“That’s it Sebastian,” the older man purred. “Come for Daddy. Come for me now.” 

 

Hearing the elegant doctor refer to himself in such salacious terms was too much. Sebastian arched and came with a hoarse cry, spilling over his fist in great spurts of liquid pleasure. Through the rushing of blood in his ears he heard Hannibal’s restrained grunt and he knew that he too had found his release. 

 

For several moments, the only sound on either end of the line was panting as they caught their breath. A distant, dreamy sense of wonder began to prickle Seb’s consciousness, an amazement that he reduced the most regal man he’d ever met to jerking off over the phone. It was quite the heady rush of power. 

 

“Ok,” he mumbled, as a ridiculous grin began to spread, unchecked, across his face. “We need to do that again -  in person. You said something about dinner?” 

 

A soft huff of a laugh came from the other end of the phone. 

 

“I certainly did,” Hannibal chuckled. “Would Thursday suit you? I’m afraid it’s the earliest I’m again this week.” 

 

Sebastian almost whined. It was only Tuesday. Going another forty-eight hours without that man beneath him would be a special kind of torture, especially after this. Still, he would take what he could. 

 

“It’s a date, Dr. Lecter,” he promised. 

  
  
  
  


*

  
  


“So, I have to ask - what did you make of my baby brother?” Sebastian smirked, as he carefully trimmed a handful of baby leeks for blanching. “Did you think him incredibly handsome? Were you a little turned on?” 

 

Thursday night found them both in Hannibal’s stately kitchen. The man’s entire house was like something out of a magazine but the kitchen… God, the kitchen was downright sensual. More sensual still was seeing the man who owned it in shirtsleeves and an apron, as much a master of the culinary arts as he was of seduction. Sebastian had had to remind himself that this was their first date and that swooning was absolutely unacceptable if he wished to retain any amount of dignity.

 

Playful teasing, however, was always on the cards, and once he’d been greeted with a comparably chaste kiss and set to work as sous chef, Sebastian had gotten stuck right in. 

 

Standing at the stove, carefully stirring a copper saucepan, Hannibal flashed him a look of wry amusement. 

 

“Interesting,” he commented, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Even your narcissism is endearing. ” 

 

He did not, however, quite meet Sebastian’s eyes and the younger man chuckled in quiet victory. 

 

“A non-answer if there ever was one,” he smirked. “Am I to take that as a yes?” 

 

Hannibal glanced at him again but he did not respond, choosing instead to raise his glass of wine to his shapely lips. Something about his expression looked uneasy, perhaps even a touch guilty. It only fed into Sebastian’s amusement. 

 

“It’s ok if you did,” he laughed. “I get it. The whole twin thing really does it for some people.” He gathered up the little pile of neatly trimmed leeks into a bowl, taking them to where Hannibal already had a pot of water boiling on the stove. “Want me to do these?” he asked. The other man seemed to have his hands full with the sauce. And the fennel puree. They hadn’t even started on the fish yet. 

 

“If you please,” Hannibal smiled. “They require only forty-five seconds in the pan, after which they should be removed and placed in that bowl of iced water there.” 

 

“Sounds easy enough.” 

 

Sebastian tipped the bowl full of leeks into the bubbling pan then glanced at the second hand on his watch

 

“Incidentally,” continued Hannibal, in hushed tones. “If I found your brother at all attractive, it was only because he so uncannily resembled you. It’s a confusing thing, to be confronted with a mirror likeness of a man you have intimately worshipped.” 

 

He said it with such tender sincerity that Sebastian found himself blushing. He was thankful he had an excuse to look somewhere other than Hannibal’s face. 

 

“Flatterer,” he muttered, with a soft laugh. “I bet you have them falling at your feet, don’t you?” 

 

He heard Hannibal chuckle, a warm, attractive sound that he felt like a caress. 

 

“Not half as often as I’d like,” he admitted. “Though perhaps my luck is changing.” 

 

Sebastian counted exactly forty-five seconds on his watch. Smiling, he picked up the slotted spoon that Hannibal had laid out for him and began to transfer the leeks to the ice water. 

 

It was a remarkably intimate thing, cooking with this man in his home. Sebastian had no idea why he felt that way, especially considering the things they’d done to one another within hours of becoming acquainted. And yet, somehow, he felt more naked in Hannibal’s kitchen, under the guidance of this obviously competent man, than he had done when they were fucking. 

 

“We used to play on it, you know,” he said, after a moment of comfortable silence. “The twin thing,” he added, when Hannibal glanced up quizzically. “We both went to the same college and it kind of became our thing, seducing guys together. Girls too, from time to time. It was wild.”

 

His fingers reached for his own wine glass, aware that, beside him, Hannibal had gone very still. 

 

“I’ve said too much haven’t I?” Sebastian said, with a grimace. Shit. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. Years and years of experience had taught him that most people just didn’t get it. He’d thought maybe, after their night together, that Hannibal might have been the sort of man who could appreciate it for what it was. Had he been wrong? 

 

To his surprise, Hannibal shut off both the burners and plucked the glass from his hand, setting it down on the counter. He turned Sebastian gently to face him and the younger man found unfathomably dark eyes staring down at him. 

 

“Are you telling me, Sebastian,” he murmured, and his fingers curled in the lapels of his blazer, “that you and your twin have shared intimate encounters?” 

 

Swallowing, Sebastian nodded, unable to tear himself away from those eyes. There was something about them… something that sent a shiver running down his spine. It wasn’t entirely pleasant. 

 

“Have you kissed each other?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Have you had intercourse?” 

 

“Not in the traditional sense of the word,” the younger man admitted in a whisper. “I’ve sucked his dick though. And he mine.” 

 

Hannibal’s eyes slipped shut. Sebastian braced himself for the man’s inevitable disgust but what he got was a rumble like a growl and then Hannibal was kissing him, licking into his mouth with undisguised lust. For a moment, Sebastian was too shocked to do anything but gasp. Then he was kissing him back, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s broad shoulders, letting his fingers twist in the man’s impeccably styled hair. He tugged sharply and was rewarded with a grunt of pleasure and a flash of teeth against his bottom lip. 

 

“Am I to take it, then,” he panted, when he wrenched away for air, “That this isn’t you expressing your revulsion?” 

 

Hannibal pressed their foreheads together, his lips lilting in a smile that was almost bashful. 

 

“Far from it,” he affirmed. “For reasons I can’t explain, I find the idea incredibly arousing. Does that upset you?” 

 

Sebastian felt a rush of mixed relief and gratitude. 

 

“Are you kidding?” he laughed, his face splitting into a grin. “Honestly, I thought you’d think it was fucked up. Most people do.” 

 

“I am not most people,” murmured Hannibal, and he cupped Seb’s cheek, pressing a single, chaste peck upon his lips. Sebastian chuckled. 

 

“No, you really aren’t,” he agreed. They kissed again, slow and achingly sweet, until Sebastian was clutching at the older man’s shirt for balance. 

 

“Do you believe what you’ve shared with Will is wrong?” Hannibal asked. There was no trace of judgement in his voice, no condemnation; just a quiet curiosity,. 

 

“I believe people are quick to vilify what they don’t understand,” frowned Sebastian. “But the world isn’t as black and white as most of them would like to think.”

 

Hannibal flashed him a peculiar smile, eyes darkened and glittering. 

 

“I quite agree, my beautiful boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did this justice, the first bit especially. It's hard to imagine a man as refined as Hannibal engaging in something like phone sex BUT I've always seen him as a bit of a libertine, a man to take his pleasures where he can get them. I hope it wasn't too much of a stretch. 
> 
> Next chapter continues the date from Hannibal's POV. 
> 
> I promise, there is plenty of plot to this fic but I've gotta ease you into it. ;)


	4. The Other Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal expresses an interest in meeting Will. Sebastian shuts him down. 
> 
> A short while later, however, fate intervenes.

“Pan-fried sea bass with prawn tortellini, fennel puree and white wine sauce.”

 

Hannibal announced the dish as he served, taking no small amount of pleasure in the awe that clouded Sebastian’s eyes. 

 

“I’ve just watched you make this,” the younger man murmured, incredulously, “And yet I still can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. It’s stunning.” 

 

Hannibal inclined his head at the compliment. He took his own seat opposite his date, draping his napkin over his lap.

 

“I would reserve your judgement for when you’ve tasted it,” he teased, as his fingers curled around the stem of his wine glass. “It might yet be dreadful.” 

 

Sebastian’s chuckle was low and soft and perfectly charming. 

 

“Somehow, I doubt it,” he smiled, and he picked up his knife and fork, slicing into the tender flesh of the fish. Hannibal watched intently under the guise of scenting his wine - the rich, oak-aked viognier Sebastian had brought that, by pure serendipity, paired beautifully with the sea bass. He catalogued the way the man’s long lashes fluttered in pleasure and the sound of delight he made in his throat. It was similar, he noted with amusement, to the other, more intimate noises that Hannibal would be drawing out of him later, and he took it for the victory that it was. 

 

“No, see, it’s perfect,” Sebastian sighed, and his eyes flashed warm at Hannibal across the table. “You cook like you fuck, Dr Lecter - with great proficiency.” 

 

Had they any other guests, Hannibal might have found the compliment too crude for the dinner table. As it was, in this intimate setting, Sebastian’s bluntness was oddly endearing. 

 

“Why thank you, Mr. Graham,” he smirked, as he delved into his own meal. “Perhaps I shall request that to be added to my epitaph. ‘Hannibal Lecter - cooked like he fucked’.” 

 

Sebastian laughed brightly. 

 

“Yeah ok, not the most eloquent of compliments,” he agreed, with a self-admonishing grin. “True nonetheless. You are  _ intimidatingly  _ competent. I mean, is there anything you can’t do?” 

 

“Plenty, I assure you, though I’ve no desire to lay bare all my shortcomings on our first date. I aim to win you over, after all, not drive you away.” 

 

“Yeah, there’s no danger of that right now,” Sebastian murmured, smiling into his plate. Hannibal had to temper the urge to smirk. 

 

Since Sebastian’s admission earlier in the kitchen, and his own subsequent acceptance, the younger man had been gazing at him with a starry-eyed variety of gratitude. Clearly, the incestuous bond with his twin had been a cause of much friction in Sebastian’s previous relationships. However, despite the fact that Hannibal was willing to say pretty much anything to get what he wanted, he had been honest when he’d said he wasn’t repulsed. Surprised certainly but not repulsed. Conventional morality was not a concept that interested him and his response to the idea was not the same knee-jerk condemnation that most people might experience.  Of course, there was the issue of inbreeding but, considering Will and Sebastian were both men, that was hardly a worry. 

 

There was something to be said for examining the particulars of a situation before passing judgement. He found himself wondering what Will and Sebastian’s relationship had been like in their youth for it to progress in such a way. He could imagine Will’s gift of empathy had left one - perhaps both - of the twins feeling ostracised and isolated from their peers. Likely they’d grown up believing they could only rely on each other. Throw puberty into the mix and, well, one might argue it was practically inevitable. 

 

No, Hannibal Lecter was not repulsed by the idea of an illicit affair between two siblings. In his line of work, he knew it was more common than people ever dared to admit. However, he was most certainly intrigued and he had every intention of learning as much as he could. 

 

So, when the subject of his date’s twin inevitably arose again, Hannibal took the opportunity to plant a seed. 

 

“Perhaps some time I could have you both over for dinner,” he suggested idly, as though it was little more than a passing thought. 

 

Sebastian, however, did not seem convinced. He grew incredibly still, his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth, and his remarkably blue eyes took on something of a chill. 

 

“To what end?” he asked, and his tone was deceptively soft. Hannibal resisted a smile and forged ahead, pretending like he hadn’t noticed. 

 

“Why, to get to know you both, of course,” he replied. 

 

Sebastian pursed his lips, setting his fork on his plate with obvious restraint. 

 

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t see that happening any time soon,” he said, bluntly. Hannibal glanced up in feigned surprise. 

 

“Oh?” he frowned. “Why is that?” 

 

“Because you’re a psychiatrist,” was Sebastian’s unapologetic response. “Will has something of an aversion, which is understandable given the number of people queuing up to poke around in his head. I’ve seen what happens when they do and it’s not pretty. It’s not something I’ll ever allow to happen again.” There was an as yet unheard ferocity in his tone and his eyes were  glittering with an icy passion. “I like you, Dr Lecter,” he declared, despite his tone and words suggesting the contrary. “But I don’t know you well enough to trust your motives and, until I do, I’ll be keeping Will at a distance.” 

 

Hannibal only just resisted the urge to smile. Now  _ this _ was an interesting development. He hadn’t expected to find this sort of savagery lurking beneath Sebastian’s personable demeanour  but,  _ oh _ , he was glad he had. It seemed it required a very specific sort of bait to coax it out - namely a perceived threat to his beloved twin. The urge to poke at the beast through the bars of its cage was sudden and intense, if only see how much prodding he could get away with before his fingers came back bloody. But he wouldn’t, not tonight. Clearly winning Sebastian’s trust was the the key to accessing Will and win his trust he would. His was a charming monster, after all. 

 

So instead he affected an apologetic expression, setting down his own fork to reach across the table. 

 

“I have given you the wrong impression,” he soothed, and he took Sebastian’s hand in his own, squeezing it reassuringly. “I apologise. I meant nothing untoward, though I can understand why you feared as much.” 

 

Sebastian visibly deflated, his agitation melting away with a deep sigh. 

 

“No, I’m sorry, it’s my fault,” he groaned, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that. You’ve been nothing but a gentleman…” 

 

Hannibal’s lips twitched. He wasn’t certain their torrid tryst or the prurient phone call that followed could be considered gentlemanly behaviour but he wasn’t about to argue. 

 

“You’re protective of your brother,” he said softly instead. “It’s understandable and, frankly, quite admirable.” 

 

Sebastian’s eyes flashed again with a hint of that cold fury. 

 

“There isn’t much I wouldn’t do to keep him safe,” the younger man whispered. 

 

Something akin to longing fluttered in Hannibal’s chest, bidding his pulse to quicken. He wondered just how much Sebastian meant those words and if, fate allowing, he would ever get the chance to put them to the test.

“I believe you, beautiful boy,” he smiled, and he lifted Sebastian’s hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles. “I promise, I only desire to meet your brother because of what he means to you. Not because of a clinical interest. Or a sordid one,” he added, with a wink that elicited a grin from the other man. “However, I shall leave the decision in your hands, in the hope that you will trust me in due time.” 

 

Sebastian positively beamed, the expression transforming his face into something even younger, more innocent. He really was quite gorgeous. 

 

“Thank you, Hannibal,” he breathed. “You have no idea how much that means to me.” 

 

*  
  


 

As it happened, it proved fairly easy to gain Sebastian’s trust. Hannibal was adept at playing the dutiful lover, a role he’d assumed many times during the course of his life. Admittedly, it was often for shorter periods of time - a weekend here and there, a single night when time was in short supply or he if simply needed an alibi. This particularly lengthy production was altering the part, threatening to cast him more in the line of ‘dutiful boyfriend’, if he cared to use such a trite term. He didn’t, of course, but terminology was irrelevant. He knew the approach required and he was happy to employ it in aid of getting what he wanted. 

 

Several weeks passed and things with Sebastian settled into something of a pattern. They would meet a few times a week - lunch, dinner, coffee, even, if their schedules were particularly hectic - sometimes at Hannibal’s home, sometimes at Sebastian’s inner city apartment. Sometimes they would spend the night; other times they did not. Regardless, sex became something of a constant, even if it was just a hasty, fumbled encounter before they both returned to their respective lives. It was diverting enough that Hannibal couldn’t complain. Indeed, he might go so far as to call it an upside, if he truly found Sebastian’s company to be so tiresome. He didn’t; Sebastian was charming and clever and a little bit wild beneath his polished exterior. Yet he wasn’t the blue-eyed, curly-haired ragamuffin that had truly sparked Hannibal’s interest. Sebastian was like a good scotch - sultry, delicious and intoxicating, but ultimately an indulgence. Will Graham… His brief exposure to Will had been like a rush of pure, cool water after a barren desert. Nourishing. Restorative.  _ Essential _ . He thirsted for more. 

 

To his surprise, an opportunity presented itself far sooner than he’d expected. 

 

It was a Friday morning and Hannibal had spent the night at Sebastian’s. He had no patients until after noon and the younger man had a rare day off, so they were taking full advantage of their few hours of peace. After a long shower, during which they’d both gotten quite clean and then dirty and then clean again, both men had dressed and taken to the kitchen, where they’d commenced the preparations for breakfast in tandem. It had pleased him to learn that Sebastian was a passable cook. Not mind-blowing but a decent enough and with the potential for improvement. Hannibal was teaching him how to make the hollandaise sauce for a late breakfast of eggs benedict and, despite his trepidation, Sebastian was doing a good job. 

 

“I feel like I’m going to stuff this up at any given moment,” he grinned, as he ever-so-carefully stirred melted butter into the sauce. 

 

At the stove, frying Canadian bacon (not his own stock, unfortunately), Hannibal chuckled. 

 

“It’s not nearly as difficult as people are led to believe,” he smiled. “The trick is low, even application of heat. You seem to have mastered it just fine.” 

 

“Beginner’s luck,” Sebastian countered, though he seemed pleased enough. “Ok, so that’s done. What next?” 

 

Hannibal was about to set him to toasting some English muffins when there came the sound of a key in the lock, then the front door  bouncing opening. Both men frowned at each other. Hannibal’s fingers reached surreptitiously for the short but sharp knife he’d been using to chop herbs. However, before he could grasp it, there was a thud and  a voice called out from the hallway. 

 

“Hey! Didn't think you’d actually be here! Just thought I’d come drop that hiking gear off on my way up to Aberdeen.” 

 

_ It was Will _ . 

 

Beside him, Sebastian’s momentary tension melted away and he beamed. Heavy, booted footsteps resounded on the hardwood floors and then Will Graham rounded the corner into the kitchen-diner. He was dressed much like he had been the first time Hannibal had met him - dark slacks, a plaid shirt and thick framed glasses - and wearing the same cheap aftershave. He stopped dead in his tracks as he spotted the two men, dressed but still damp from their shower, and his eyes widened. 

 

“Morning, baby bro,” Sebastian chuckled.

 

“Shit,” Will whispered. Then, sucking in a deep breath, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I should have called first. I’d thought you’d be at work and… ” 

 

His eyes flickered over to where Hannibal was standing, carefully trying to keep his sudden interest under lock and key. The younger Graham was discomfited, that much was clear, but Hannibal found it unusually difficult to pinpoint exactly what was distressing him. He wasn’t granted the time to look more closely, however. Will’s gaze dropped fast and then Sebastian was rounding the kitchen island, grasping his brother’s hand. 

 

“Hey, it’s ok,” he soothed, though there was still a ghost of an impish grin on his face. “No harm, no foul. Though I gotta say, I’m glad you’re here now rather than an hour ago.” 

 

“Jesus,” Will muttered, and this time it was clear he was embarrassed. His cheeks coloured and pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. He pulled at the hold his twin hand on his hand, only to have it gripped at all the harder. 

 

“Sorry, sorry,” snorted Sebastian. “I know better than to tease you before you’ve had at least three cups of coffee.” 

 

Will’s lips twisted into a moue of chagrin. 

 

“Maybe I should go,” he grumbled. “I’m clearly intruding.” 

 

A rush of unexpected disappointment flooded Hannibal’s chest; Sebastian sobered quickly. 

 

“No, no, no,” he pleaded. “I’m being an ass. Really, it’s ok. We were just making breakfast. You wanna join us?” The older twin glanced at Hannibal, his expression soft and pleading. “We have enough, right?” he asked. 

 

Hannibal noted he didn’t bother to ask if he minded; he already knew the answer. He let a gentle, encouraging  smile curl his lips. 

 

“Of course,” he agreed. “You know my tendency to overcook. Please Will; do join us.” 

 

Will met Hannibal’s eyes for the first time since that fateful Friday weeks ago. The shutters drew back, if only a little, and Hannibal felt the prickle of gooseflesh as that remarkably astute gaze was turned upon him. Then, just as quickly, Will retreated, letting the frames of his glasses obstruct the wonder of his stare. 

 

“I can’t stay long,” he muttered. “But I guess a little breakfast couldn’t hurt.” 

 

Sebastian looked every bit as delighted as Hannibal felt. 

 

“We’re having eggs benedict,” he announced gleefully, dragging his twin into the kitchen proper. “I know,” he added, at the raise of Will’s brows. “Hannibal’s a fucking genius in the kitchen.” 

 

“You might have mentioned,” Will shot back, with a wry smirk that made Hannibal chuckle and his brother blush like a maiden. 

 

“Have you perchance been talking about me, Sebastian?” asked Hannibal, thoroughly pleased by the revelation. Sebastian didn’t respond, avoiding his gaze, so the older man risked a glance at Will. 

 

“I think gushing would be more accurate.” the younger Graham amended, with a tight expression that was somewhere between a smile and a grimace. Something about this displeased him, though whether it was simply the tedium of having to listen to his brother wax lyrical about his new paramour, or whether it was something else entirely, Hannibal couldn’t be sure. 

 

Across the kitchen, Sebastian pouted. 

 

“This might have been a bad idea,” he groused. 

 

Hannibal found he couldn’t agree. Despite the somewhat awkward atmosphere, he was soon fully enjoying the chance to observe Will Graham. Having the twins side by side made it easier to distinguish the physical differences between the them. Aside from the scar and their dress sense - which was worlds apart - Sebastian kept his hair just a touch shorter. Sebastian was also a little broader in the shoulders and torso than Will, a result, Hannibal suspected, of the hours he spent abusing his building’s gym privileges. All in all, though, the resemblance was uncanny. 

 

Of course, it was a purely  _ superficial _ resemblance. By the time they sat down to eat, Hannibal had already concluded that they were as different as night and day. Sebastian was confident and carefree, with an easy sort of charm that lured in the people around him. Will, on the other had, was withdrawn and a little prickly, and he used his acerbic with to keep people at a distance rather than draw them in. The exception appeared to be Sebastian, to whom the younger man seemed to open like a flower with very minimal coaxing. It was fascinating to observe. 

 

“So, what has you headed for Aberdeen?” Sebastian asked, as they were tucking into their breakfast. “Not another case?” 

 

“I go where I’m needed,” was Will’s shrugged reply. He’d yet to make any comment on the food and Hannibal wasn’t sure if he found the neglect rude or simply amusing.  

 

“What is it that you do, Will?” he inquired, glancing up at the younger twin. “Of course, I’m aware that you work for the FBI but not what your role is there.” 

 

“I teach at the academy, mostly,” he responded. “Though, occasionally, I’m asked into the field to take a look at a crime scene. Depends how desperate Jack Crawford is for a quick resolution.” 

 

Hannibal nodded gravely. 

 

“I have heard of Agent Crawford from Alana, though I’ve yet to meet him in person.”

 

“He’s a prick,” glowered Sebastian. “Doesn’t give a shit about the people he’s got working for him, as long as he gets his man.”

 

“You’ve never met him either,” Will pointed out, though there was a measure of amusement in his eyes. 

 

Sebastian sneered into his breakfast. 

 

“Don’t need to. He uses you. That’s enough of a reason for me to hate the guy.” 

 

“As heart-warming as that is, there’s no need for you to get all alpha-twin,” the younger brother sighed. “I’m going up state to raid one of the archives, that’s all. There’s a few cold cases that he wants me to look over. Wants to rule them out as Ripper vics.” 

 

Hannibal’s fork paused over his eggs. 

 

“Are you perchance referring to the Chesapeake Ripper?” he asked, in a carefully neutral tone. 

 

Will nodded, taking a pensive bite of his bacon.. 

 

“Jack’s little obsession,” he muttered, as he swallowed. “He asked me to look over the files a few weeks ago.” 

 

“I didn’t think the Chesapeake Ripper had killed for a while,” Sebastian mused, with a curious tilt of his head. “Why’s he got you looking at that?” 

 

“Biding his time, I guess,” shrugged Will. “He thinks it won’t be long before there’s another kill. Probably wants a fresh lead before there’s a fresh body.” 

 

“You seem doubtful,” Hannibal noted. 

 

“That he’ll kill again? Oh I don’t doubt he will,” the younger twin huffed, his voice rich with dark amusement. “Whether we’ll find anything if use is what I doubt.” He shook his head, his glossy curls bouncing with the motion. “I shouldn’t really be talking about this,” he added. 

 

Hannibal was only mildly disappointed. He hadn’t honestly expected the man to go spilling FBI secrets over brunch. However, the idea that Will was a part of the team investigating his creations was thrilling, to say the least. What did this unusual, gifted man make of his art? Could he, given chance, come to see him, to know him in all his truth?

 

Perhaps it was about time to be hosting another dinner party…

 

After breakfast, Will stuck around long enough to help with the clean up. He was quiet and he moved awkwardly though his twin’s space, as though the presence of another man made him somehow unsure of himself. Sebastian’s tactile behaviour towards Hannibal didn’t seem to help. The older Graham was blatantly delighted about having his brother and his lover in the same room. He couldn’t keep stop touching Hannibal as they worked at the sink together, Will resigned to fetch and carry their used things from the table. It didn't go unnoticed, nor did the ill-concealed jealousy churning in Will’s eyes. Hannibal could not be sure whom it was directed towards. 

 

“I better go,” he announced bluntly, once the last of the plates had been dried and put away. “I gotta get on the road if I want to get these files. Thank you,” he added, stiffly, with a half-concealed glance at Hannibal, “For breakfast.” 

 

“It was no trouble, Will,” Hannibal responded, in a soft a tone as he could muster. “I greatly enjoyed getting to know you a little better.” 

 

Will said nothing to that, not that Hannibal expected him to. 

 

“See you later, Seb,” he muttered. “Dr. Lecter,” he added, with an incline of his head. And then he was gone, headed, no doubt, for the door. 

 

Sebastian’s buoyant demeanour fizzled out like a wet firework. 

 

“He seems distressed,” observed Hannibal. “Perhaps you should speak to him before he leaves.” 

 

“Yeah,” Sebastian muttered. “Thanks.” 

 

He squeezed Hannibal’s shoulder, his smile worried but his eyes full of gratitude, before he hurried out of the kitchen after Will. Hannibal folded the dish towel, set it down on Sebastian’s gleaming granite worktop and then followed silently. 

 

He was thankful that they’d only made it as far as the doorway to the living room. Had it been the hall, there was no way Hannibal could have observed without being seen. He made use of the angle of the room, positioning himself out of sight, and watched as Sebastian took one of Will’s hands, cradling it in his own. He said something, something pitched so low and soft that Hannibal couldn’t make it out. Whatever it was, it made Will’s lips pull in a falsified smile. He tried to shrug his brother off but Sebastian was having none of it. His arms folded his younger twin in a bone-crushing hug and, after a second of floundering, Will melted. His fingers verily clutched at Sebastian’s shirt, his face twisted in nothing short of torment. He whispered into the air around his brother, words that Hannibal could read clearly on his lips. 

 

_ ‘Don’t leave me.’  _

 

Sebastian only squeezed him tighter before pulling away, cupping Will’s cheek in his right hand. 

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I promise you.” 

 

Will swallowed thickly and nodded, his mouth curling in a weak but genuine smile. Sebastian’s thumb brushed tenderly over the other man’s cheekbone. He leaned forward, planting an entirely innocent kiss on his twin’s forehead. Nevertheless, something unpleasant twisted in Hannibal’s gut at the sight. Not quite envy. Not  _ quite _ . But close. 

 

He returned silently to the kitchen, trying to process all that he’d witnessed and heard and how he felt about it. The morning, frankly, was a bit of a tangle in his mind and tugging the threads would only make it more difficult to sort through. Later, perhaps. For now, he focussed on the one thing he could quantify with any degree of certainty. 

 

It was time for the Ripper to hunt again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a bitch of a cold and I really struggled getting the ending of the chapter to work. Apologies if it falls a bit flat. I'll likely go back and review it soon but I needed to get it out there. 
> 
> Also, a big thank you to everyone reading this. To think this all started with a dumb, drunken conversation with my friend about what Will should get Hannibal for Christmas (a clone of himself - because what would he love more than one Will Graham than TWO?) 
> 
> Also, the recipe for pan-fried sea bass: http://www.greatbritishchefs.com/recipes/sea-bass-recipe-prawn-tortellini-fennel  
> It sounds simple. It isn't.


	5. Doppelganger - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ripper is killing again and Will finally gets to see one of his crime scenes first hand. 
> 
> It hits a little close to home.

Will was woken at an inhuman hour on Saturday morning. At first, he wasn’t sure what had roused him from his fitful state of sleep. It was still dark outside, the room lit solely by the smouldering embers in the fireplace. Will sat up with a groan, scrubbing a hand down the side of his face. His bladder was uncomfortably full and there was a headache already wrapping its way around the back of his skull. He wondered if that was what had woken him when his phone began to ring on the nightstand. He spotted two missed calls already as he leaned over to pick it up, frowning at Jack’s name appearing on the screen. 

“Hello?” he mumbled, drowsily.  

“It’s him,” was all Jack had to say before Will was wide awake. 

“The Ripper?” 

“We’ve got a body in Union Square Park, called in about a half hour ago. I know it’s early and a weekend but I’d really like you here for this, Will.” 

Will nodded, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah,” he responded. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll just get dressed and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Don’t speed. It’s icy out.” 

His phone beeped as Jack disconnected the call. For a moment, Will could only sit on the edge of his bed, aware of the curious stares of his pack but too preoccupied to set them at ease. A shiver rippled through him that had little to do with the inhospitable weather. He’d yet to see a Ripper crime scene in person. Of course, he’d seen more than his fair share of grisly murders, both recently and back in New Orleans, but this was different. The Ripper elevated murder to an artform and a small part of him was itching to see what he’d find in Baltimore. Jesus. What the hell was  _ wrong  _ with him? 

Will groaned, slipping off the bed and padding into the kitchen for a couple of aspirin. It was too early in the morning to deal with his deviancies yet. He’d berate himself later, once he’d had some caffeine. Right now, he needed his headache to fuck off, his bladder relieved and something warmer to wear than his boxers and t-shirt. No doubt the park would be cold as balls. 

He was ready and on the road in less than fifteen minutes, a cup of hastily brewed coffee shoved into a travel cup the only thing keeping him warm. His car’s heaters were sluggish against the biting chill in the air. Will told himself that the cold was the only reason he was trembling and he tried his utmost not to imagine what might be waiting for him. 

It was still dark by the time he arrived in Baltimore. The modest park was already ringed in by police cruisers and gleaming black SUVs, blue lights casting an appropriately icy pall over the surrounding streets. It was still early enough that most of the residents had not noticed the commotion but Will doubted it would remain that way for long. 

Jack met him at the main gate, his expression grim and pensive. 

“He’s with us,” he spat, at the young officer who moved to stop him as he approached. “Come on,” he added to Will. “The gang’s all here already.” 

He jerked his head and Will allowed himself to be led through the gates and down a dimly lit pathway. Though small, the park was lush and green, and the abundance of trees did an excellent job of creating privacy. Will could make out dozens of police officers and forensics technicians milling about in the gloom like ghosts. 

“Who called it in?” Will asked, as they passed a bubbling fountain and headed towards a large, domed structure - a bandstand, he realised. 

“A couple of drunk kids,” sighed Jack. “Thought they’d make a romantic detour through the park on their way home from a party. Found a corpse, instead.” 

“That’ll certainly kill the mood,” Will muttered in agreement. 

Price, Zeller and Katz were already waiting for them just before the band stand, each one of them wearing identical expressions of unease. They’d erected surgical screens around the structure - for the press’s benefit, no doubt - so Will couldn’t see much. Still, his pulse began to flutter in anticipation. 

“Call it wishful thinking, but I had hoped we wouldn't be seeing another one of these,” Price commented as he approached. Jack snorted. 

“There were always going to more, Jimmy,” he said, darkly. “It was just a matter of time.” 

They began to move towards the gap in the screen, to the steps that led up onto the platform. Will imagined he could already smell it - the coppery scent of human blood, the beginnings of mortal decay - and it ratcheted up his anxiety. On the second step, Jack paused and turned to him. 

“You should prepare yourself for this one, Will,” he declared, gravely. “It’s a little spooky.” 

And then he was moving again, Price and Zeller in tow. Will swallowed against the bubble of fear that rose up in his esophagus and followed. 

The body was positioned sitting on the bench facing them, the right arm and hand outstretched in an unmistakable gesture of beckoning. The head was slightly bowed, so the face wasn’t entirely visible, but Will caught the fair skin, the stubbled jaw, the familiar corona of dark curls... Panic hit him like a freight train. He stumbled forward, a wounded cry escaping his lips. The entire scene swam and swayed dangerously and Will honestly thought he was going to pass out but he couldn’t, he mustn’t. He had to see. He reached out a hand - when had he started shaking? - but immediately felt himself being pulled backwards by the fabric of his jacket. 

“It’s not him, Will,” Beverly said, her voice firm but soothing even as Will struggled against her grip. “It’s not your brother. Look closely.” 

Will looked. Through a sheen of tears, he truly looked and he saw. It wasn’t Seb. The likeness was impressive, yes, but the nose was too long, the mouth too wide. The body - nude save for the sheet cramped over his lap - was taller and a bit skinnier. A deranged sound of relief pushed its way past the lump in Will’s throat. 

“Will,” Jack said, and his voice came as though from across a vast canyon. “Are you ok? Can you do this?” 

Closing his eyes, Will nodded. 

“Gimme a minute,” he requested. “I’ll be fine. Fine,” he added to Beverly, who was still clutching the sleeve of his jacket. She looked doubtful but she did release him, allowing him to take a step back whilst he tried to compose himself. Fuck, his heart was racing and his stomach churned as though he might throw up. He knew that it wasn’t Sebastian but that did little to quell the sheer terror that seemed to have replaced to blood in his veins. This was no accident. The Ripper did not entertain coincidence. 

Will took several long, deep breaths and, eventually, his head cleared enough to allow him to actually concentrate.He turned back to the body, to where Jack was watching him like a hawk, analysing his every nuance. 

“Tell me what you see,” he entreated. 

And so Will looked. 

Posed on the bench, his beckoning hand outstretched, the first thing Will noted was the fact that the eyes were missing, each socket filled instead with a single white bloom that Will actually recognised. There was a garland of pink and white flowers on the man’s head and around his neck, which at first glance, did something to conceal the Y-shaped incision that marred the guy’s torso. 

“Finger outstretched, eyes replaced with… white chrysanthemums?” Will muttered, glancing at Price for confirmation. Jimmy nodded. 

“I’ve had a bit of time to Google before you got here,” he admitted. “White chrysanthemum blossoms signify truth. The ones in his hair and around his neck are… well, they’re called’ Sweet Williams’.” 

He shared a look with Zeller, who was regarding Will like he’d never seen him before. The air around them suddenly grew infinitely thicker as all eyes landed squarely on him. 

“So this is an invitation,” Will huffed, and he had to temper the ridiculous urge to laugh. “A challenge. He wants me to see him.” 

“But why just you?” scowled Zeller. “Not that I want to singled out by a murderous psychopath but surely if he was going to go poking anyone, it would be Jack?” 

“Maybe he’s a fan of Will’s freaky ESP?” Beverly shrugged, with an apologetic quirk of her lips. “Whoever he is, he knows you’re working the case now. Fuck!” she hissed, suddenly loud. “Don’t tell me this bastard’s law enforcement.” 

“It’s not out of the realm of possibility,” Jack pitched in. “We all know these types are attracted to the force. That said, despite our best efforts, it’s not exactly a secret that Will’s joined the Ripper case.”

Will’s mouth twisted in a grimace. 

“Ah yes, Freddie Lounds,” he sneered. “My number one fan.”

The shameless redhead had never much liked Will and, when she had recently gotten wind of Jack involving him with the Ripper files, she’d taken great joy in questioning his suitability for the job. 

“So what, this our killer’s way of ragging on the new guy?” asked Price. “A personalised corpse-o-gram?” 

“One way to test my mettle,” shrugged Will, with a self-deprecating smirk. “We know he reads Freddie’s trash. Maybe he agrees with her.”

He wasn't entirely certain this was true - it was, after all, an awful lot of trouble to go to - but he couldn’t quite put his finger on something. Frowning, he glanced back at the body, the poor man who so closely resembled both his brother and himself. He wondered if that was the only reason he’d been chosen. A shudder ran up his spine. 

“Ok, I know it’s cold out, but we still need to get this guy on ice,” Zeller muttered. “You happy to move the body?” he asked of Jack. 

Jack glanced to Will, who nodded, wrapping his arms around his middle. There was no need for him to go any deeper; the message was blatantly clear. 

“We’ll have to cut him open before we can determine what organ is missing,” said Price, as he beckoned to a couple of forensics investigators. “Considering he went in through the chest, I’d wager the heart.” 

Zeller scoffed. “Well, it’s not gonna be his kidney, is it?”

“I want the autopsy scheduled asap,” Jack cut in, before they could continue. “Get him moved, bagged and back up to Quantico - preferably without the press getting a glimpse! Lounds does a good enough job of stroking the Ripper’s ego as it is.”

He looked to Will, who was starting to tremble again and likely not from the cold. He felt too light, too insubstantial, as though the slightest gust of wind would scatter his atoms. 

“You ok?” Jack asked, taking Will by the arm and leading him none-too-gently away from the band stand. They passed Beverly as they left and she shot Will a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry I had to do that. I considered telling you outright but I didn’t want to influence your interpretation of the crime scene.” 

“Well, you did say it was spooky,” muttered Will, through chattering teeth. It occurred to him that Jack might have not called him at all, considering how very personal this particular tableau was. If he were honest, Will was not sure what he’d have preferred. He felt oddly numb. The idea that the Chesapeake Ripper had taken notice of him had not quite permeated through the layers of shock at seeing his dead lookalike. Jack, for all his faults, seemed to recognise this too. 

“I’m not going to push you right now,” he began, as they made their way back to the gates, “But we will need to have a discussion about this soon. So far, you’re the only one he’s reached out to personally and we can’t pretend that’s not significant. Now, I can arrange for a security detail-”

“That’s really not necessary, Jack,” Will sighed. “This wasn’t a threat, it was a message. He wants me to try and find him. He’s not about to kill me - not yet, anyway.” 

Jack narrowed his eyes. 

“I’d still feel better if we had someone keeping an eye on you,” he scowled. “But we can address that when we have that talk.”

Will made a mangled gesture that was part shrug, part nod. He was having difficulty getting his body to cooperate what with the quaking of his muscles. He could only imagine what he looked like to the techs and cops - poor Will Graham, so fragile and delicate, having to be dragged away, shaking, from a crime scene. He’d have been angry, if he had the room in his head. 

To his surprise and relief, he found Sebastian waiting for him just beyond the gates. His brother’s hair was an uncharacteristic mess and he was dressed a little formally for the small hours of a Saturday morning. Still, he was very much alive and Will found his eyes welling up again as he was drawn into a rib-crushing embrace. 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Sebastian murmured, grasping Will’s shoulders. “Fuck, you’re shaking.” 

Right then, Will didn’t care that there were probably a dozen eyes on him - Jack’s included. He buried his face in Seb’s shoulder, clutched at his back and shuddered against the urge to sob. 

“I thought you were dead,” he breathed, the words muffled and cracking and probably unintelligible. “He looked just like you. Like both of us.” 

“Definitely not dead,” promised Seb. Will registered the peck of a kiss that landed on his crown, knew that someone, somewhere, would have something to say about how touchy-feely the Graham twins were, but he couldn't summon the energy to give a shit. Sebastian was ok and he was here; that’s all he cared about. 

“Wait, how are you here?” he mumbled into Seb’s coat. “How did you know?” 

He felt his brother laugh, just once, and he lifted his head to see. Sebastian was smiling and it was like the sun, chasing the insidious cold from his bones. 

“Your friend, Beverly, called me a little while ago,” he admitted, sheepishly. “Said something about a difficult crime scene, thought I should be here for you. I was staying at Hannibal’s so it wasn’t exactly far to come.” 

Will groaned and, regretfully, pulled away. 

“You didn’t have to,” he muttered. “I don’t wanna drag you away from whatever it is you two have planned.”

“It’s nothing we can’t rearrange,” Seb shrugged. “He’s a nice guy, Will. He understands.” He reached out and took Will’s hand loosely in his own. “Now come on, show me where your car is. I’m gonna drive you home.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies - I've had to split this chapter into two parts because it was getting a bit too long! 
> 
> But yay! Finally, some bloodshed! I've been waiting for this. >:D This covers the hurt part. 
> 
> Next chapter will continue on with a little light twincest comfort - and a touch of kink. ;)


	6. Doppelganger - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian's attempts to comfort Will stir up some long dormant feelings. 
> 
> Will and Jack have a discussion about his involvement with the Ripper case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting messy. <3
> 
> Content Warning - this chapter contains a little light (like, seriously, so light) feederism - hand-feeding to be specific, with a dash of belly kink. If that kind of thing makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip to the second bit.

Sebastian drove them back to Wolf Trap and Will couldn’t have been more grateful. With the adrenaline of the shock wearing off, exhaustion was beginning to creep in. He nodded off on several occasions, waking each time with a jerk and a racing heart.

 

The pale winter sun had dawned by the time they pulled up on his driveway. Will squinted his tired eyes against the grey light, rubbing fruitlessly at the shadows that clung beneath them.

 

“We’re back already?” he mumbled, as Sebastian shut off the engine. “Fuck. Sorry. I can’t have been much in the way of company.”

 

“Didn’t come here for your scintillating conversation Will,” his brother said, with a gently teasing smile. “Just wanted to make sure you’re ok.”

 

Inside, the house was cold, though certainly warmer than it was outdoors. Sebastian immediately began building a fire whilst Will yawned and perched on the edge of the bed, feeling tired and more than a little useless. The dogs crowded him so he fussed over them, letting them sniff and nuzzle. It was a familiar action, one that grounded him. Even now, when his head felt so heavy and full of the last couple of hours that it might drop off and roll away. He was almost grateful that the Ripper had been succinct in his message; he could only imagine how awful he’d feel now if he’d had to fully unleash his empathy on that crime scene.

 

“Ok, that’s done,” Sebastian declared, standing up brushing off his hands. “Do I need to let the pack out?”

 

“They could probably use a few minutes out back,” Will nodded. “I can do-”

 

But Sebastian shook his head.

 

“No, stay right there. I’ve got this. You like you’re about to pass out. Why don’t you get yourself back into bed and let me handle the pooches?”

 

He clapped his hands together and immediately the dogs went to him, swarming around his thighs. Sebastian laughed brightly. He led them into the kitchen and out of sight, leaving a heavy eyed Will alone at the foot of his bed. Exhausted as he was, he first thought was to fetch his laptop and start doing something, _anything_. If the Ripper had coughed up one body then it wouldn’t be long until there was another. He had to at least try to formulate some sort of lead.

 

And yet, he was so damn tired. The emotional upheaval had drained him more than the early wake-up call and Will knew, deep down, that until they at least got an autopsy report, there was little new evidence to work with. So he did was he was told, shucking off shoes and jacket, shirt and trousers into a messy heap on the floor by the bed. Shivering, he crawled up the mattress and slipped under the thick layer of sheets and blankets. His eyes drooped immediately. The empty, dreamless slumber of the truly tired beckoned him like a siren. He must have drifted off for at least a few minutes, because he jerked awake some indefinable amount of time later at the feel of the mattress dipping beside him. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes as a warm weight settled next to his head. Fingers combed through his hair, eliciting a sleepy hum of pleasure,  and he huddled up to the heat.

 

Will dreamed of a forest of monstrous white flowers, where strange, antlered creatures with unseeing eyes lurked in the shadows, whispering and watching. His skin prickled constantly with the sensation of being followed and when he next woke, it was with a shuddering gasp and the clutch of skeletal fingers around his wrist that, for a moment, seemed all too real. Wrenching his eyes open, he found himself lying with his head on Seb’s outstretched legs. His brother’s hand was lax on the back of his head and a quick glance up revealed that he too had fallen asleep. Will smiled in spite of the panic that had followed him out of his dream. Sebastian’s thighs weren’t the most comfortable of pillows but knowing that he was there, warm and solid and real, soothed him. He breathed slow, willing his racing heart back into a normal rhythm. His fingers danced circles in the fabric of his brother’s trousers - his fancy trousers, he’d noted earlier. Likely the same clothes he’d been wearing last night and the thought made his stomach twist. Seb had been with Hannibal again. He often was, these days. Will still wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

 

“Mmm, you’re gonna wear a hole in those,” came a sleepy mumble from above.

 

Will lifted his gaze just enough to see Sebastian staring blearily down at him. His hair was adorably ruffled and he was wiping moisture from the corner of his mouth with his shirt sleeve.

 

“Oh, that’s real sexy,” Will chortled. “I bet your boyfriend can’t get enough of that.”

 

Sebastian snorted and the fingers he had tangled in Will’s hair tugged in reprimand.

 

“Cheeky shit,” he muttered, fondly. “Like you never do it.” He paused to stifle a yawn and Will heard his stomach growl noisily next to his ear.

 

“Hungry, much?” he smirked. “What, no fancy breakfast this morning?”

 

“He offered but I was kind of in a hurry,” Sebastian reminded him. “We can fix that now, though. If you let me up.”

 

“I doubt you’ll find anything fancy in my kitchen,” sighed Will. He did, however, sit up, allowing his brother to slip out from underneath him. Sebastian shuffled languidly into the next room. Will leaned back against his pillows, listening to him opening and closing cupboards. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by the gnawing in his own stomach - not after he’d left without eating. Yet he wasn’t sure he felt like food. Perhaps a cup of coffee would quell his discomfort?

 

“Hey, can you put on some coffee?” he called through, over the sounds of his twin clattering around.

 

“On it!” was Sebastian’s cheerful reply. Will rolled his eyes.

 

He stayed sat up in bed as his twin bustled around his kitchen, fixing their breakfast. Distantly, it occurred to him that he should probably go and help but the thoughts rattling around in his head were like anchors weighing him down, rendering him immobile. Jack had been accurate when he’d said that Will was the first agent the Ripper had ever reached out to. Which begged the question - why him? Was it because of his empathy? Or was it simply because he was the new guy and the sadistic murderer wanted to rattle his cage? Personally, he felt that unlikely. The Ripper had never taken a personal interest in any of the people investigating him before. Will wondered how much this killer knew about him. He wondered if he’d watched Will at crime scenes, seen him doing his thing and decided he wanted to play. More disturbing still was the idea that it was someone he knew. Not intimately, but someone he perhaps passed or encountered on a daily basis without ever even realising. All the best monsters could pass for human, after all. Will knew that only too well.

 

He was still cocooned inside of his thoughts when Sebastian reappeared, carrying plates stacked high with fat, fluffy pancakes and bacon. Will’s stomach growled at the scent and he accepted a plate from his brother with a grateful smile.

 

“You didn't have to do this,” he murmured, as Sebastian slipped onto the bed next to him. He took a fork from his twin and tore off a chunk of light, syrup soaked pancake. It was fucking delicious.

 

“Can’t have you wasting away on me,” smirked Seb and he too tucked into his breakfast. “So,” he said, thickly, “You gonna tell me about this dead guy that looked like us?”

 

Will sighed.

 

“It was a message,” he answered, slowly. “From the Chesapeake Ripper. His first kill in eighteen months and he uses it to challenge me to a game of hide and seek.”

 

Sebastian swallowed hard.

 

“Fuck, Will,” he breathed. “This is…  Jesus. Shouldn’t there be cops outside or something?”

 

“If he wanted to kill me, I’d be dead already,” said Will, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No, this is him reaching out. Why, I have no idea, but it’s not a threat.”

 

Not yet at least, his mind supplied. His brother didn’t seem at all placated by this information.

 

“Somehow, that’s even more disturbing,” he grimaced. “I’m not going to lie, Will, I’m worried here. Maybe you should come stay with me for a bit. You know, somewhere less remote.”

 

“Won’t that put a dampener on your steaming sex life?”

 

The words tumbled out of Will’s lips before he even realised he’d thought them and Will cursed himself - he sounded as salty as the bit of meat he was currently chewing on.

 

“Sorry,” he uttered. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded. It’s just… you have your life, I have mine. Like the dogs. I can’t just pack up and leave the dogs for days on end.”

 

“Will you at least think about it?”  Sebastian asked and, fuck, he was pulling that pouty, pleading face that he damn well knew Will couldn’t say no to. He sighed.

 

“I’ll think about it,” he conceded. “But I can’t imagine my answer will change.”

 

They ate in silence for several minutes. Or, at least, Sebastian ate. Will found himself picking listlessly at his food now that the worst of his hunger had been sated. The flutter of anxiety was making him antsy, unwilling to eat any more than necessary for fear of it turning his stomach.

 

His brother was having none of it.

 

“Is that all you’re gonna eat?” he frowned, as he set his own empty plate down on the nightstand. “Will, come on. You can do better than that.”

 

“I’m not really that hungry,” Will winced. He made to put his plate aside too but found himself being pulled back against his brother’s chest. He yelped, gripping the plate hard to avoid spilling sticky pancakes all over his bed. “Seb!” he protested. “What the hell?”

 

“Relax, will you?” he felt his brother chuckle beneath him and his arms wrapped around Will’s to cage him in. “I’m just trying to help.”

 

He took the plate from Will’s left hand and the fork from his right. Will felt warm breath on his cheek, a chin settling on his shoulder, and he knew what was coming. A blush spread from his face down his bare chest and he squirmed on the spot.

 

“Seb,” he whined, even as his brother cut a morsel of pancake with the edge of the fork. “Come on…”

 

Sebastian laughed again good-naturedly and Will forced himself to ignore the way his twin’s hot breath raised goosebumps on his skin. The fork was lifted to his lips and Will turned his head petulantly to the side.

 

“Now, William,” Sebastian chastised. “Did I not promise Dad I’d take care of you? You think I’m gonna let you starve yourself?”

 

Will whined again but, this time, he did turn back, parting his lips to accept the forkful of fluffy, gooey, salty goodness. Sebastian practically purred in his ear.

 

“Much better,” he breathed, and he nosed tenderly at the curve of Will’s throat. “Isn’t this nice?”

 

Will had to bite back the moan that was his first reaction. It was nice, too nice, and when Sebastian pressed the fork to his lips again, he opened without hesitation.

 

“That’s it, baby boy,” his twin cooed, as Will ate what was offered to him. “Let’s put some meat on those bones, hm?”

 

They continued in that vein, Will allowing his brother to feed him and Sebastian murmuring words of praise and encouragement as bite after bite disappeared into Will’s mouth. The younger man stoically ignored the way his heart fluttered in his chest and the aching impulse to turn his head and capture his brother’s lips.

 

“How do you think your boyfriend would feel if he saw this?” he whispered, groaning around another sticky morsel. He was starting to get full but he knew he wouldn’t be stopping until the plate was empty. Fuck, he could even go for seconds if this was the sort of treatment it bought him.

 

“What, me taking care of my sibling?” Sebastian scoffed. “I’m fairly sure he wouldn't have a problem with it. Besides, it’s not up to him. You’re my brother, Will. I’m always going to take care of you, no matter who else comes along. If they don’t like it, they can fuck off.”

 

Will’s chest ached at those words and he let his eyes fall shut.

 

“I thought you liked him,” he whispered. The fork nudged his lips again and he opened obediently, chewing more slowly as his appetite waned.

 

Sebastian’s lips ghosted against Will’s shoulder and the younger twin tensed, biting his lip against a needy whimper.

 

“I do,” Sebastian admitted. “A lot. But you come first.”

 

It took every ounce of Will’s self-control not to knock the fork aside and crawl into his brother’s lap. It had been so long, so long since they’d really shared each other. For years, there’d been nothing but chaste touches and the odd, drunken kiss when one or both of them had had a few too many beers. He craved those lips now, craved the comfort and familiarity of his twin’s body warming his own. But he wouldn't, not anymore. If Sebastian had a chance to be happy, to have a normal relationship that wouldn’t end in ridicule and condemnation, then he wouldn’t jeopardize that. His twin deserved happiness.

 

So he swallowed down his feelings alongside the food, keeping his hands to himself as Sebastian helped him polish off the plate. When he was done, he flopped back with a groan and tried not to gasp when Seb’s hands settled on his stomach.

 

“You’re so good, Will,” the older twin sighed, nuzzling Will’s cheek. “Such a good boy. Thank you.” His hands squeezed Will’s belly, which was taught and overfull, visibly rounded over the waistband of his boxers. “You look nice like this,” he added, with a chuckled. “Maybe I should fatten you up permanently.”

 

He squeezed again and it was such a strange amalgamation of pleasure and pain that Will couldn’t withhold his whine.

 

“Stop being a shit,” he grumbled, wondering why the hell he was finding this arousing. “I did as you asked, didn’t I?”

 

Sebastian laughed again. His hands moved over Will’s skin but he didn’t squeeze, opting to caress him softly instead. Will wavered, torn between telling him to stop and just guiltily accepting the affection for what it was. He eventually chose the latter, offering a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was listening that the sheets hid his traitorous erection.

  


*

  


Sunday saw Will back at Quantico. After spending the remainder of Saturday - the night included (and wow, what a test of his resolve that had been) - with Sebastian, the elder twin left for Baltimore with the promise that Will was always welcome. Will appreciated the sentiment, he really did, but now of all times, he could not entertain the idea of living in the same space as his brother. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself.

 

Thankfully the Chesapeake Ripper had chosen a convenient time to bid for Will’s attention. The autopsy report came back and, to no one’s surprise, it revealed very little. The Ripper had taken the lungs and the heart all in one clean go but there was nothing else. Cause of death was a broken neck. No drugs in the system, no ligature marks, no signs of struggle or misuse. The only oddity was that the organ removal, unlike that of most of his previous victims, had been done post-mortem. Why, no-one else seemed sure, but Will thought it was the Ripper’s twisted way of telling him he meant Will no harm.

 

The almost reverent treatment of Will’s doppelganger had done little to appease Jack, however.

 

“I’m not happy about any of this,” he seethed, pacing the floor of his office like a caged lion. “I have half the board telling me to pull you off the case but we both know that’ll achieve nothing.” He sighed. “Like it or not, you’re the best man for the job, Will. Our best shot at catching this guy. Maybe taking you off the case is exactly what he wants.”

 

Will’s only response was a half-shrug of his shoulders. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t entertained the theory but, somehow, he didn’t think that was it.

 

“I don’t feel like the Ripper would shy away from a threat, Jack,” he mused. “He’d meet it head on, teeth bared…”

 

“Maybe,” Jack muttered, and he ran his hand over his face. “Either way, he’s proven he’s got his eye on you. If I’m going to let you back out there, I can’t in good conscience let you do it without support.”

 

_Support?_

 

“You mean a shrink?” Will sneered, unable to keep the disdain out of his features. “No. No way. I have no interest in being psychoanalysed.”

 

“Will, you nearly contaminated a crime scene because you freaked out that badly,” said Jack, and the perfectly level tone of his voice was utterly infuriating. “I understand why,” he added, in placation, “But we can’t afford it happening again. Chances are, the Ripper’s only going to continue fucking with you and, when he does, we need someone there who can help you defuse.” He perched on the edge of his desk, peering down at Will before him with tired eyes. “I asked Alana Bloom,” he admitted, and at once, Will was utterly horrified. “But she refused,” Jack added quickly. “Said she wouldn’t want to cross that line with you. She did, however, refer one of her colleagues - a Dr Hannibal Lecter.”

 

Will snorted a humourless laugh.

 

“My brother’s boyfriend,” he muttered. “Of course. Is that any better, Jack?”

 

“Well, he’s more familiar than a complete stranger,” Jack shrugged. “But not so close to you as to raise a conflict of interest.”

 

Will shot him a disdainful luck, aware that he was being borderline rude now but not quite able to reign it in.

 

“I just want you to be able to check in with someone, Will. Someone who knows what they’re talking about. You don’t have to tell him your life story.”

 

Jack was giving him that look, that reasonable, ‘you know I’m right’ look that was entirely justified but infuriating none-the-less. Will didn’t care that he was being logical. If he was truly being logical, he’d take Will off the case as common sense dictated. But Jack didn’t want that and, frankly, neither did Will. The Ripper had issued a challenge and he intended to see it through.

 

“Are you gonna let me do this if I refuse?” he asked, quietly.

 

“No,” admitted Jack. “It’s non-negotiable. However, it doesn’t have to be Dr Lecter. He was just a suggestion.”

 

“Might as well be,” Will conceded. “Shrinks are shrinks. At least this way, I can find out if the guy dating my brother is any good.”

 

“Good,” Jack nodded, seeming, for once, genuinely pleased. “I’ll get in touch with him myself, if that’s ok. I want to be clear of what’s expected.”

 

Will shrugged indifferently. His call, Jack’s call, it didn’t really matter - it was bound to be a shitshow. But maybe, just maybe, he could use the situation to his advantage.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come join me on Tumblr @kink-sprinkles 
> 
> I have twin kissies for you: https://kink-sprinkles.tumblr.com/post/169820416450/a-wee-drabble-set-before-the-events-of-the


	7. Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian is worried about his twin so Hannibal helps him to relax - in a manner of speaking. 
> 
> Sebastian opens up a little more than he intended to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this brief interlude. I was fully ready to jump in with the Will/Hannibal goodness but there was one thing that needed to happen first. 
> 
> The good news is it's mostly smut with a few truth bombs thrown in for good measure. Have fun! ^_^

Hannibal’s gargantuan bed had fast become a happy place of sorts for Sebastian. Unsurprising, really, given the hours they spent there; talking, teasing, fucking each other senseless and then falling asleep in a tangle of boneless limbs. It was a place that never failed to bring him pleasure and relaxation. It was a place he could think of during long drives or tedious conference calls that would always bring a smile to his face. 

 

For once, however, the almost Pavlovian bliss that accompanied Hannibal’s high-count cotton sheets was evading him. He was tense, a ball of gnawing irritation and anxiety. Lying on his belly, his head pillowed on his arms and the charming Lithuanian doctor draped over his back, Sebastian tried to force himself to chill the fuck out. He’d just gotten laid, for fuck’s sake! His ass was still full of Hannibal’s cum, kept inside by an elegant glass plug that Hannibal was caressing possessively with his fingers. It had been bloody good too - toe-curlingly good. He should have been criminally relaxed by now, if not just starting to gear up for a second round. Instead, here he was, quietly simmering. 

 

“You’re incredibly tense,” his lover observed, as he pressed a kiss to the tip of Sebastian’s shoulder blade. “Have I displeased you?” 

 

Sebastian instantly felt like a dick. His brooding was making his lover worry and without cause; of all the things that were bothering Seb in that moment, Hannibal was definitely not one of them. 

 

“Of course not,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, it isn’t you.” 

 

He wriggled his hips and Hannibal got the hint, easing off just enough to allow Seb to roll over. The motion jostled the plug within him, its tip nudging his over-sensitive prostate. He uttered a noise of discomfort but made no move to dislodge it.  

 

“You’re still worried about Will,” surmised Hannibal smoothly, and he fixed Sebastian with that cool, neutral expression that he must usually reserve for his patients. It should have looked odd on a man who was bare-ass naked, lying on his side with an elbow crooked to support his head. But like anything, Hannibal just looked effortlessly elegant. Sebastian swallowed and nodded guiltily. 

 

He had vented all throughout dinner about Jack-fucking-Crawford and his idiotic decision to keep Will on the Ripper case. Of course, it had given him some relief to know that Hannibal would be the one supporting Will. Hannibal had smirked at that, made some light-hearted comment about finally trusting him around his twin’s unique mind. Sebastian had assured him that wasn’t an issue anymore. Call him a lovesick schmuck but there wasn’t much he wouldn’t trust to Hannibal now. However, despite hashing things out over their meal, despite Hannibal being nothing but forthright with his plans for Will, he was still uneasy about what might come. 

 

“I know Will said it wasn’t a threat,” he muttered, “But I can’t help myself worrying about him.” 

 

Hannibal nodded in gracious understanding, his hair fluttering upon his forehead. 

 

“You fear your brother is going to be taken away from you?” he asked, with a slight downturn of his lips. Sebastian scoffed. 

 

“Wouldn't you be?! Maybe it isn’t a threat now but what if Will does something this guy doesn’t like? What if he gets too close? Ugh, I hate this…” 

 

He swallowed hard, glancing away from the astute older man as emotion threatened. Hannibal, however, took him gently by the chin, turning his head so their eyes met. 

 

“Are you angry at this killer, Sebastian?” 

 

“I will be if he hurts Will,” he snarled. “I don’t care what he does with his free time, so long as keeps it the hell away from my brother.”

 

Hannibal hummed, his thumb brushing Sebastian’s full lower lip. That look he got sometimes was back - like a black hole in his eyes, sucking the light out of the room. Seb had no idea what it was or what it meant but it never failed to give him goosebumps. 

 

“You love your brother so very dearly,” the older man murmured. “Tell me, would you kill to keep him safe?” 

 

The question prompted a tiny gasp from Sebastian. Unbidden, his mind transported him back to an evening many years ago, to the image of furtively gathered digitalis leaves chopped into lettuce, drizzled with ranch dressing and plated alongside an inexpertly cooked steak and baked potato.

 

“You shouldn’t ask me questions like that,” Sebastian replied, softly. “You might not like the answer.” 

 

Hannibal tilted his head and fear, sharp and icy, lanced him in the gut. However, and not the first time, the revulsion he expected from Hannibal didn’t manifest. The look he gave instead was much closer to fierce adoration. 

 

“You couldn't possibly scare me away, beautiful boy,” purred Hannibal and, God, the way his accent thickened round the words made Seb’s cock twitch. He bit his lip only to have it pulled gently free and claimed in a delicate kiss. Hannibal tasted him almost reverently - slow, sweet and methodical - but Sebastian found himself craving something more savage. He whined, nipping at the older man’s tongue in an attempt to encourage a little of his brutality. Hannibal merely chuckled in patient amusement. 

 

“Is there something you need, Sebastian?” he whispered, and his amber eyes danced with unspoke challenge. “Tell Daddy how he can help you feel better.” 

 

Sebastian groaned, his blood venturing southwards at the use of that word. Hannibal didn’t always adopt the Daddy role in bed - it didn’t always fit their needs - but when he did… oh, Seb knew he was in for a treat. His mind began to race as he pondered all the things he could ask for. He didn’t have to think very hard. There was one thing that never failed to calm him when he was this riled up.

 

Without a word in reply, he slipped off the bed, aware of Hannibal’s amused gaze upon him and the plug still filling him up. He padded over to where their clothes were neatly folded on the back of a chaise and, with great care, selected Hannibal’s belt from the pile. It was simple and elegant, an inch-wide strip of black Italian leather with a heavy silver buckle. Sebastian folded it in half and turned back to the bed, the belt held out in his hands like an offering. He didn’t miss the bob of Hannibal’s Adam’s apple or the way his eyes darkened in spite of his blank expression. His clever, wicked tongue emerged to lick his lips and he sat up, making no show of hiding his sudden interest. 

 

“Please, Daddy,”  he whispered, returning to the bed. “I need it.”

 

Hannibal’s nostrils flared and he nodded, reaching out to take the belt from Sebastian’s fingers. 

 

“How many?” he asked, because this was a request and not a punishment. His tone was light and conversational, the way one might inquire if a guest desired milk in their coffee, and Sebastian had to admire his composure. 

 

“Ten, I think,” the younger man breathed. “Any less won’t be effective. No buckle though.” 

 

He crawled back onto the bed, feeling the plug moving within him and his fattening cock begin to bob against his thigh. Kneeling before the pillows, he leaned over to grip the headboard and was rewarded by a deep, desirous rumble from behind him. 

 

“Your safeword?” Hannibal demanded. 

 

“Ankara,” he replied in a whisper. His pulse was beginning to flutter in anticipation ad he tensed when he heard the creak of the leather in his lover’s hands. 

 

“Good,” said Hannibal, caressing Sebastian’s backside just once before withdrawing. The mattress dipped and Sen knew just from the shift in the air that Hannibal was standing above him. “I’m going to give you ten lashes of the belt and I would like you to count them.” 

 

“What if I can’t?” 

 

Behind him, Hannibal hummed.

 

“This is not a punishment, so I will not reprimand you,” he uttered. “ But you will do it, simply because it pleases me.” 

 

A whimper escaped Sebastian’s throat, because he knew it was true. 

 

“Yes, Daddy,” he murmured. 

 

“Are you ready?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Sebastian forced himself not to tense, knowing the pain would only be worse if he did. He managed two deep, centering breaths before the folded belt cracked down on right buttock.

 

“One!” he grunted, as the pain blossomed, sharp and hot, over his skin. 

 

The second blow came straight after, this time on he left, and Sebastian gasped, his eyes watering. 

 

“Two!” 

 

He gripped the headboard tight as Hannibal rained down his strokes in quick succession, alternating between left, right and the sensitive skin of his upper thighs. The pain was exquisite. Hannibal wielded the belt like a master, knowing just where to strike and with how much force to make the most beautiful marks. He never hit the same spot twice, for which Sebastian was grateful; he didn't think he could have withstood the pain. As it was, he could barely stammer out to count, and, by the time the tenth stroke fell, he was openly sobbing. His backside and thighs were burning in beautiful agony, his cock thick and weeping with need. 

 

After his watery wail of “Ten!”, Sebastian heard the belt being tossed aside and then Hannibal was pulling him roughly back against his chest. His head was forcibly turned and a hot mouth slotted over his own, kissing him greedily. 

 

“My beautiful boy,” Hannibal purred, smearing the tears that coated Sebastian’s cheeks. “You have never looked more lovely.” 

 

“Daddy, he whimpered. “Daddy, please…” 

 

“I know, darling.” 

 

Hannibal’s hand skimmed over Sebastian’s searing backside, making him twist and whimper in pain, until his fingers found the rim of the plug. The feeling of it pulled impatiently out almost made the younger man come and he sobbed, protesting the sudden, awful emptiness. Thankfully, he didn't have to endure it long. His ass had barely begun to leak when he felt the press of Hannibal’s thick erection against his hole. His eyes rolled back. A desperate, quivering moan was wrenched from his lips and then Hannibal was filling him, burying himself in a single, fluid motion. 

 

“Oh God - fuck!” Sebastian sobbed. “Hannibal!” 

 

Flush against his back, Sebastian could feel they way his lover’s chest was heaving, feel the panting of hot breath against the column of his neck. There was a rumble of a growl by his ear, a feral thing that he rarely heard from the regal doctor, before he began to fuck into him, hard and fast. Powerful arms held him tightly in place and all Sebastian could do was moan and writhe and take Hannibal’s dick. His body burned with a heady mixture of pleasure and pain, and he was teetering on the edge in no time at all. 

 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he gasped. “Hannibal, please…” 

 

His only reply was a rough grunt of exertion by his ear. Hannibal’s arms crushed him further against his chest. A talented surgeon’s hand wrapped around Seb’s cock and he was coming, screaming, his head thrown back on his lover’s shoulder. The world narrowed to the stinging burn in his ass and the beautiful, white-hot pleasure churning in his gut. Hannibal snarled. His fluid pace stuttered and Sebastian knew he too had come. The world swam. He felt Hannibal’s heart pounding against his back, the thrum of his pulse deep inside, and then he was gone, drifting like a balloon cut from its string. 

 

When he came back, it was to the sensation of something cool being rubbed into the burning skin of his backside. Sebastian blinked, slow and somnolent, and twisted to look over his shoulder. He was lying on his belly again, apparently having been cleaned up. Hannibal was straddling his thighs, using the tips of his fingers to massage a thick ointment into the reddened flesh. 

 

“Arnica cream,” he uttered, and he glanced up from his task to flash a gentle smile at Sebastian. “For the bruising.” 

 

Sebastian’s lips curled in a smile of his own. 

 

“Thank you,” he murmured, drowsily.  

 

“It was the least I could do,” Hannibal replied. “I fear I may have been a little overzealous.”

 

His surgeon’s hands were cautious and tender - an apology, written on skin with ghosting fingertips. Sebastian didn’t find one necessary 

 

“It was what I needed,” he assured. “Thank you.” 

 

Hannibal wiped his hands on a small, navy towel on the nightstand.

 

“I assure you, I was more than happy to oblige,” he responded, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. Still gloriously naked, he abandoned his position over Sebastian to lie on his side beside him. Sebastian twisted onto his side too, wincing at the raw pain in his ass. He reached out to the older man and was delighted when he found himself captured and pulled close against that deliciously furred chest. “How do you feel now?” asked Hannibal, pressing his lips into Sebastian’s messy curls. 

 

He felt serene and sleepy, despite the fact that there were a dozen things he knew he should be fretting about. They seemed so far away now, the wonderful throb in his backside the only thing at the forefront of his mind. 

 

“Amazing,” Seb sighed. “”That was some damn good therapy, Dr. Lecter.” 

 

Hannibal’s chest quivered with amusement. 

 

“Would that all my sessions were so enjoyable.”

 

Sebastian smirked, nosing his lover’s chest. 

 

“I’m glad they’re not,” he admitted. “I’d be dreadfully jealous.”

 

Although… he had a sudden image of Hannibal bending Will over the desk in his office, striking him with the very same belt he had just experienced himself. Will would look so gorgeous writhing under Hannibal’s commanding touch. He would happily be a fly on the wall for that therapy session. 

 

Almost as if he could sense Sebastian’s prurient thoughts, Hannibal chuckled and gave Sebastian’s earlobe a reprimanding nip.

 

“I’m afraid you have the wrong idea about what I do with my patients,” he teased. “Which is fortunate for you, given that I am adding your brother to my roster.” 

 

“Maybe he needs a good spanking too,” muttered Sebastian, before he could stop himself. He felt Hannibal stiffen and immediately he kicked himself, cursing his lack of filter. “Ignore that,” he mumbled, burying his face in Hannibal’s chest hair. “I’m talking shit.”

 

Hannibal said nothing for a moment, though Sebastian felt him slowly untensing beneath his hands. He cupped the younger man’s chin, tilting up his head to bring their eyes together. 

 

“Sebastian,” he murmured, “Are you entertaining fantasies of disciplining your brother? Or of me disciplining your brother?” 

 

Sebastian swallowed, feeling a burning heat rising in his cheeks. He tried to look away but Hannibal was remarkably strong, holding him firmly in place. 

 

“Both sound pretty good,” he admitted, sheepishly. “Though, er, it was more the latter…” 

 

Hannibal blinked slowly. When he opened his eyes again, that dark, glittering something was back, making Sebastian shiver in the man’s arms. 

 

“Interesting,” was all he said, before he released Sebastian’s chin, drawing the younger man back against his chest. Seb thought he’d seen a hint of a smirk but Hannibal had moved him before he’d been able to truly tell. 

 

“Speaking of your brother,” he ventured, after a minute.. “I was thinking of inviting him and Agent Crawford to join us for dinner tomorrow evening - as an introduction, of sorts. How would you feel about that?”

 

Sebastian’s pulse quickened ever so slightly. It might have been an entirely innocent suggestion. With Will to commence therapy (or not - Hannibal insisted it wasn’t therapy as such), it made sense to get everyone together and on the same page. An informal setting like a meal would be a smart way to do that given Will’s reticence. And yet... 

 

“I think it’s a great idea,” whispered Sebastian. 

 

Hannibal kissed the top of his head. 

 

“Wonderful. I shall make the necessary arrangements, then.” 

 

Sebastian closed his eyes, wondering what in the fuck he had just agreed to. 

  
  



	8. Tete-a-Tete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal hosts a dinner to discuss his upcoming involvement with the FBI. 
> 
> He thoroughly enjoys himself, in spite of his guests' mounting tension.

Notice of less than twenty-four hours was hardly ideal for having dinner guests - especially for a dinner as significant as this one. Naturally, though, Hannibal already had a menu in mind when he’d proposed the little tete-a-tete, and, once he had confirmation of his guests’ attendance, he’d begun the necessary preparations. The aim of the evening was impress but not to overawe and, for a man of modest tastes like Will Graham, that meant somewhat simplifying his usual fare. He’d taken inspiration from the Grahams’ childhood in Louisiana, hoping to appeal to his guest of honour through nostalgia. A touch obvious, perhaps, but if asked, he could always claim Sebastian as the cause. 

 

Hannibal’s thoughts turned to the elder twin as he put finished touches to the accompaniment for their appetiser. For all that he’d been a convenient - though admittedly entertaining - stepping stone, Sebastian was proving to be just as intriguing as his younger brother. Last night, for the second time, he had implied that he was willing to kill for his twin. He had seemed so sincere that Hannibal had found himself wondering if he had not already done so. He hadn’t planned for the Ripper to outright act against Will (unless left with no other choice, of course) but he had to admit, he was entertaining the notion, if only to see what Sebastian would do. What form would his fledgling darkness take? 

 

The sound of the doorbell interrupted his musings. Wiping his hands on a dish towel, Hannibal slipped on his jacket and headed for the foyer. The food was as prepared as it could be in advance. He had several wines open and aerating, waiting for his guests, and Satie was playing softly in the dining room.  In short, he was as ready as he could possibly be for an evening with the Grahams and Agent Crawford. However, when he opened the front door, he felt woefully unprepared for the loveliness that greeted him. 

 

Will and Sebastian stood on his porch, looking nothing less than resplendent. It seemed the elder of the two had taken the liberty of dressing them both and Hannibal was delighted by the results. Will cut a sharp figure in his jacket of midnight blue velvet, black trousers and tie, his eyes beautifully complimented by the shimmering fabric. His brother had opted for a slim-fitting suit in darkest burgundy - simple but nonetheless breathtaking, if just for the way it highlighted his athletic body. Hannibal found his smile was entirely genuine as he stepped back to welcome them inside. 

 

“Gentleman,” he greeted. “Do come in.” 

 

He kissed Sebastian briefly on the cheek as he passed, offering the younger twin his hand. Will shook it, firm but wary, and Hannibal gave him his most charming smile. 

 

“A pleasure to meet you again,  Will,” he said, warmly. 

 

“And you, Dr. Lecter,” was Will’s quiet reply. 

 

“Please, call me Hannibal,” he insisted. “At least, outside of our soon-to-be work environment.” 

“Hannibal,” Will corrected himself, and the sound of him testing Hannibal’s name on his tongue was a lovely thing indeed. 

 

Beaming, the doctor turned to his paramour, finding him watching his exchange with Will with curious and appreciative eyes. 

 

“Something smells divine, Hannibal,” he praised. “And, dare I say it, a little familiar…” 

 

Hannibal’s lips twitched. 

 

“I’m hoping that will be the case,” he chuckled. “We shall see. Can I get you both something to drink?” 

 

With a light hand on each of their backs, he ushered his guests into the dining room. Will stiffened a touch at the contact but Sebastian melted into it, sending a flirtatious glance over his shoulder. Hannibal smiled indulgently but he did not further the advance. They had agreed, for Will’s sake as much as propriety’s, to keep things reserved for the evening. It would be a challenge for the older twin, no doubt; Sebastian was tactile in his affections and rarely had cause to employ restraint. 

 

In the dining room, he poured them both a glass of the semillon he’d chosen to pair with the first course. Will’s eyes drank in the surroundings, lingering momentarily on the painting above the mantel. His brows crept up his forehead but he said nothing. Hannibal concealed a smile, wondering if the younger Graham was holding his tongue for his sibling’s sake. That simply wouldn’t do. 

 

“I trust you’ve had a pleasant day?” he inquired, as he presented a drink to each of the twins. Will took his with a quiet mumble of thanks; Sebastian, a heated smile. “Thank you, incidentally, for the gift. I hope you procured a bottle for yourself, also?” 

 

The bottle of Macallan Black that had arrived earlier by courier had been a pleasant surprise. Sebastian was quite determined to convert him from brandy to whiskey, it seemed. 

 

“Of course,” Sebastian grinned. “And I’ll be keeping it away from Frobisher this time.”

 

The doorbell rang through the house again and Hannibal excused himself to go and greet their final guest. He’d yet to meet Jack Crawford in person. They had spoken over the phone, of course, regarding his proposition, but it was hard to get the measure of a man from voice alone. 

 

Jack turned out to be a man of impressive stature, well built and suitably imposing for someone of his position. His clothing was a simple and understated ensemble of charcoal and black; smart, functional and masculine. 

 

“Dr Lecter,” he greeted, with a controlled smile. “A pleasure to meet you at last.” 

 

He offered his hand and they shook, every bit as firm as one might expect. 

 

“The pleasure’s all mine, Agent Crawford,” smiled Hannibal. “Please, come in.” 

 

Jack stepped inside, his astute eyes appraising every inch of his surroundings. In his left hand, he carried a slender bottle, which he pressed into Hannibal’s hands as he passed. 

 

“I’m afraid I know little about wine,” he chuckled. “I had to rely on my wife’s expertise.” 

 

It was a bottle of Hungarian Tokaji - and a rather fine one, at that. 

 

“Your wife has excellent taste. Thank you. May I take your coat?” 

 

He took the man’s heavy, winter trench coat and set it neatly on the stand reserved for his guests. 

 

“You have a lovely home, Doctor,” Crawford complimented. “Did I spy Mr. Graham’s car outside on the way in?” 

 

Hannibal’s lips pulled in a smile. Agent Crawford was astute - fortunate, really, given his profession. Not so astute as to have any inkling as to who he was speaking to, though. And why would he? Hannibal had gone to great lengths to keep himself concealed. Yet the opportunity to toy with his would-be hunters was going to prove incredibly tempting. 

 

“Yes, both Sebastian and Will are already in the dining room. It’s just this way.” 

 

Reeling with amusement at fortune’s fickle ways, Hannibal led Agent Crawford into his - the Chesapeake Ripper’s - dining room. Will and Sebastian were pretty much as he’d left them, standing in front of the fireplace. They were posed subtly but Hannibal didn’t miss Sebastian’s hand on his twin’s trim waist - under the jacket, no less. He had clearly been speaking in Will’s ear but he turned at the opening of the doors, lips curling, eyes bright and full of mischief. A challenge; it seemed he wanted to play. Hannibal ignored the flicker of arousal this stirred. 

 

“Will, good to see you,” declared Agent Crawford, making his own introductions. “And Sebastian. We’ve met, if only briefly.” 

 

Sebastian’s impish delight hardened into a stony, forced smile. He stepped away from his twin, inserting himself between the younger man and his superior. 

 

“We have,” he nodded. “Good to see you again, Agent Crawford.” 

 

They shook hands, polite and formal, as though Sebastian wasn’t radiating his dislike of the other into the air around them. If Jack noticed this animosity, he didn’t say anything. 

 

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you out of work, Will,” Jack remarked, in good humour. “Must have been that New Year’s party a couple of years back.”

 

“Please don’t remind me,” muttered Will. “All the whiskey in the world couldn’t erase that night from my mind… not that I haven’t tried.”

 

Jack laughed and Hannibal set about pouring another glass of wine, lips twitching at Will’s acerbic brand of wit.

 

“There’s often something alien about seeing one’s colleagues outside of the strict regiment of the working environment,” he smiled, handing the glass to his guest, who accepted with polite gratitude. “It can be a polarising experience.” 

 

“The power to endear or estrange in one fell swoop,” Will agreed. “I wonder which side of the cin this little gathering will fall on.” 

 

Hannibal smirked, delighted. 

 

Their first course was his take on what he’d been assured was a Cajun classic - catfish. He’d studied several recipes before deciding to serve his stuffed and blackened, on a bed of samphire and with a classic Cajun remoulade. 

 

“I can’t believe you cooked Cajun,” Sebastian beamed, as he served his guests. “This looks incredible, Hannibal.” 

 

“Nothing like a little taste of home, hm?” Jack said. 

 

“Certainly looks fancy,” murmured Will, and Hannibal couldn’t tell if he meant it as a compliment or a criticism. Such a comment might have raised his ire from anyone else but Will Graham’s prickliness was increasingly endearing. 

 

“I have made a few adjustments for my own tastes,” the doctor admitted, affecting an apologetic expression. “Hopefully it hasn’t compromised the authenticity too much.” 

 

He took his seat at the head of the table, gesturing for everyone to begin. 

 

“Wow, this is exquisite,” praised Jack, warmly. “Alana has always lauded your food and I can see why.” 

 

“You’re too kind, Agent Crawford,” was Hannibal’s reply. “I confess, I’ve not cooked this particular type of cuisine before this evening. Knowing its significance, however, I was eager to try.”

 

He cut into his own fish, catching Will’s eye from across the table. The younger man dropped his gaze immediately, much to the amusement of his twin. 

 

“It’s perfect,” Sebastian smiled. “I haven’t had catfish this good in years.” 

 

By the time their second course had been brought to the table, talk had turned to the true purpose of their gathering. 

 

“To be clear, Will,” Hannibal mused, as they delved into his own personal interpretation of langoustine etouffee, “what Jack and I are proposing for you is less therapy and more support. My role is not to psychoanalyse you in any way. I aim simply to be a gauge for your mental wellbeing during this case.” 

 

Will -who, whilst quiet, had certainly seemed to be enjoying the food - nodded tersely. 

 

“That’s good,” he muttered. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m psychoanalysed.”

 

“And when this gauge shows cause for concern?” asked Jack, ignoring Will’s abrasive jibes. “I presume you have your ways of getting things under control?” 

 

“A bridge we will cross when we come to it, but yes,” Hannibal nodded. “Of course, if I feel for a moment that Will is not coping, I will not hesitate to say so. My primary concern shall be Will’s health.” 

 

“Of course,” agreed Jack, as though he thought that were obvious. Sebastian shot the agent a rancorous look. 

 

“They say prevention is the best form of medicine…” he all but sneered into his wine glass. 

 

“True, but prevention’s not an option here,” Jack shrugged. “We need Will working on this case. He’s the only who can do what he does.”

 

“Even if it breaks him?” the elder twin asked, quietly. 

 

Will’s fork stilled in his hand, hovering an inch from his plate

 

“We won’t let that happen,” Jack insisted. 

 

“Ah yes, nothing like papering over the cracks.” 

 

Sebastian’s eyes flashed icy cold, his voice dripping venom. If looks could kill, Jack Crawford would have been a smoldering pile of ash on Hannibal’s dining room chair. The doctor had seen Sebastian’s protective nature before but never quite like this. It was a thrilling and savage thing to behold and he found himself wondering if Jack was facing down the source of his own demise. With a little influence, perhaps… 

 

“Seb,” Will interrupted, before things could go any further. “Enough. Nobody’s forcing me to work this case.”

 

“Of course not,” agreed Sebastian, and his sweet smile was incongruent with the viciousness of his tone. “Why force when you can guilt and manipulate?” 

 

“Mr Graham-” Jack began heatedly, but it was Will who put his foot down, glaring at his twin.

 

“Stop it,” he insisted. “I know you’re worried but I am choosing to do this. It is  _ my choice _ , Seb. I’m not so spineless that I couldn’t refuse if I wanted to.” 

 

Sebastian’s cheeks were flushed and his nostrils flared in irritation. His lips parted as though he made to argue but he seemed to think better of it. Lowering his eyes to his plate, he nodded, the picture of demure contrition. 

 

“I know,” he sighed. “And… I respect that.”

 

“Good,” Will muttered. “Then act like it.” 

 

The elder twin’s jaw tensed. His eyes flickered once more to Jack Crawford, so full of burning hatred that Hannibal was surprised the man didn’t noticed. JAck, however, simply stared at Will, watching his bloodhound attempt to stand up for himself. His lips twitched once, a prelude to a smile, before he turned his attention to Hannibal. 

 

“Now that that’s settled,” he declared, prompting an incredulous scowl from Sebastian, “I’m curious as to how you’d feel about actually attending crime scenes with Will? Assuming you’re free to do so, of course.” 

 

“I’d be happy to,” replied Hannibal. “Busy or not. I can easily rearrange my schedule.” 

 

“Jack,” Will began.  “That’s really not necessary…”

 

“I feel like it is,” Jack insisted. “You lost control at the last one, Will, and you nearly contaminated evidence. I told you we can’t risk that happening again.” 

 

Will looked torn between anger and shame. 

 

“It won’t,” he bit out. “It took me by surprise but I’m prepared now.” 

 

Jack shook his head, fingers curling with surprising delicacy around the stem of his glass. 

 

“With all due respect, you don’t know what’s coming next,” he reasoned. “None of us do. I’d feel better if Doctor Lecter was on hand to lend his support.”

 

Hannibal’s own lips twitched with the threat of mirth.

 

“I’d be more than happy to do so,” he demurred. The chance to observe his own crime scenes being analysed? How could he possibly refuse? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I just want to say - I have little to no experience of Cajun cuisine. Sadly, it's not something we get in my little corner of Britain so many apologies if I've screwed it up. I did do some research and I have to say, it looks fucking amazing (so much so that I will be trying a few recipes myself). That said, we know Hanni is a pretentious little pup so I had to have him fiddle with things a bit. 
> 
> Next Chapter: Post dinner drinks, a bit of flirtation and a fresh body. But is it the Ripper?


	9. Illicit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will gets roped into post-dinner drinks at Dr. Lecter's, where a drunken Seb attempts to stir the pot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: It's Twincest time, y'all.

Jack had left shortly after dessert, miraculously unscathed and in good spirits. It seemed he and Dr. Lecter considered the evening a success. Will, however, wasn't so sure. He was feeling no more at ease about having Dr. Lecter as his babysitter, and now he had the added worry of Sebastian’s headbutting with Jack. He found himself both appreciating and exasperated by his twin’s behaviour over dinner. On the one hand, that Sebastian cared so deeply was endearing and, he supposed, he would probably have felt the same if the tables were turned. Yet Will was no fragile little teacup in need of delicate handling; he could fend for himself. He just hoped that Sebastian didn’t do something foolish on his behalf. Impulse control was not exactly his strong suit.

 

Despite the food being, admittedly, excellent, Will had been plenty ready to call it a night after Jack’s departure. Dr Lecter had tried to tempt him with second helpings of dessert - a version of bread pudding made with beignets that had Jack begging for the recipe - and fancy bourbon but in the end it had been Seb’s pouty, puppy-eyed face over his lover’s shoulder that had convinced him to stay for after-dinner drinks. Into his third whiskey, Will was now feeling pleasantly buzzed. It seemed his twin was too, judging by the way he was hanging off Will, bestowing him with lingering, suggestive touches that were a little bit more than could reasonably be called platonic. Will sipped at his whiskey, confused and, if he were honest, a little thrilled. He glanced over to Dr. Lecter, curious as to how he was taking this.

 

To his surprise, the man was remarkably sanguine, so much so that, at first, Will wondered if he’d actually noticed. Sitting at the bench of his harpsichord, playing something Will recognised but could not name, he looked the very image of a man reposed. The golden tie he’d worn at dinner had vanished, leaving the top two buttons of his shirt open, and the light from the fire was casting dancing shadows over his angular face. ‘Attractive’ was the word Will’s mind supplied and he immediately berated himself for thinking it. This was his brother’s boyfriend and his own soon-to-be colleague. Clearly, he needed to lay off the booze; he was starting to think with his dick.

 

“Magnificent, isn’t he?” Sebastian mumbled in his ear, apparently having noticed the direction of Will’s gaze. “I swear, there is _nothing_ that man can’t do.”

 

The words were heavy with suggestion and Will flushed, trying to put a bit of distance between himself and his increasingly tipsy twin. At the harpsichord, Hannibal noticed, his lips twitching

with mirth.

 

“Are you misbehaving, Sebastian?” he chuckled, over the rolling rise and fall of his melody. “Perhaps I should not have opened that third bottle of wine.”

 

“‘M fine, darling,” Sebastian insisted, and he nuzzled into Will’s neck, making the younger man stiffen, his pulse beginning to race.

 

Dr Lecter glanced up from his playing, his smile darkening, but still he said nothing, not even as Sebastian hummed and pressed a kiss to the underside of Will’s jaw.

 

“Jesus, Seb, knock it off,” Will hissed under his breath.

 

Sebastian merely giggled, finally retreating and getting to his feet. He moved far too steadily for a man who was clearly drunk, sidling over to where his lover was still playing, thoroughly unruffled by what was going on around him.

 

“Why don’t you play Will one of your own compositions?” he murmured, as he leaned down to wrap his arms around Lecter from behind. The doctor tilted his head in consideration, allowing Seb to kiss his cheek tenderly before he straightened up. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

And to Will’s horror, he headed for the door, tossing a lazy wink over his shoulder on his way out. Glittering amber eyes turned to settle on Will and the lilting tune from the harpsichord dwindled to a halt.

 

“He’s had too much to drink,” Will explained, hastily. “Seb’s always over-affectionate after a few glasses of wine.”

 

Dr, Lecter’s lips curled in a serpentine smile, his gaze dropping to the keys of the harpsichord as he began to play anew. This was a different song, a slower, almost hypnotic sort of melody.

 

“That’s true,” the older man nodded. “He does. But that’s not the only reason for his tactility, is it Will?”

 

Will’s heart skipped a beat. He suddenly felt far too sober for his liking, draining the last of his expensive Scotch in a single swallow. His eyes met Lecter’s again, empathy reaching out unrestrained, and it hit him.

 

“Oh God,” he breathed, dread swelling in his stomach. “He told you didn’t he?”

 

Dr, Lecter chuckled again.

 

“He did, yes.”

 

“Jesus,” Will muttered. “Why the hell would he do that?!”

 

People weren’t supposed to know about them, period. After _that time_ , they’d promised they’d be more careful. People just didn’t understand. It wasn’t worth the risk.

 

“I believe he felt he could confide in me,” the doctor shrugged, elegantly. “And he can. You will receive no judgement from me, Will. I am well aware that what society deems atypical is not necessarily wrong.”

 

Will raised a brow.

 

“So… you don’t mind?” he clarified. Lecter shook his head.

 

“Not at all. The bond you share with your twin is unique, not something I would pretend to understand. It certainly doesn’t bother me.”

 

That was unexpected. Will swallowed hard, wondering why this man was being so damn accommodating where others usually reacted poorly. It didn’t make any sense.

 

“We haven’t,” Will began, awkwardly. “You know… not since you. Just… just to be clear.”

 

Dr. Lecter simply inclined his head.

 

“I was not particularly concerned about that, Will,” he smiled. “Though I appreciate the reassurance all the same.”

 

“You weren’t?”

 

“I’ve no desire to come between you," their host stated, as if it were genuinely that simple. “What I have with Sebastian and what you have can both co-exist.”

 

Will could only stare at that, astounded. He felt the weight of the now empty crystal tumbler in his hand and tried to remember just how many he’d had.

 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Are you saying that not only do you not mind my having slept with my brother in the past but you’re ok with me continuing to do so? Even whilst he’s dating you?”

 

Dr. Lecter nodded, looking pleased.

 

“I confess, I’m not normally inclined to share,” he said, evenly. “But it seems there are exceptions to every rule.”

 

Will narrowed his eyes. This was too easy. He was too calm. No-one was that cool with the idea of their lover screwing someone else; no-one. No, there was something behind that placid facade and those softly glittering eyes that he couldn’t decipher and somehow Will doubted it was good intent.

 

“Why do I get the feeling you want something, Dr. Lecter?” he drawled, fixing the other man with a hard stare.

 

Lecter simply laughed.

 

“I want a great many things, Will,” he purred, and, God, he was practically radiating smug amusement. “Such is my nature.”

 

Will scowled then, lips parting to demand he be more specific. However, right at that moment, there was the tap of footsteps outside the living room door. It opened before Will could speak and Sebastian glided back into the room, wearing a wicked smile. It did nothing to put Will at ease. Indeed, he had the sudden, creeping feeling that his brother was up to something. Perhaps they both were.

 

“Mm, always nice to see my two favourite men getting along,” Sebastian smirked, as he made his way over to the harpsichord bench. He sat down beside his paramour, close enough for their legs and sides to touch, and slipped arm around the older man’s shoulder. The doctor accepted the affection with only a slight upturn of his lips.

 

“You make it very difficult to play, darling boy,” he chuckled, proceeding to do so nonetheless. Sebastian giggled, his arm slipping lower to cinch the man’s waist instead.

 

“Then maybe we should play something else,” he purred, resting his chin on Lecter’s shoulder. Will’s eyes widened, heat suffusing his cheeks.

 

“Jesus, Seb,” Will muttered, even as his brother leaned in for a kiss.

 

Dr. Lecter stiffened, his hands coming down on the keys on the harpsichord in a heavy, jarring clang of notes. Sebastian seemed to take this as a victory, bringing his other hand up to turn his lover’s face before heartily devouring his mouth.

 

“Ok!” Will called, jumping to his feet. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

 

He set his empty glass down, pointedly ignoring the way Seb was moaning and how his cock twitched at the sound. Rounding the couch, he forcibly detached his twin from Dr Lecter. Sebastian whined at the interruption, leaving the older man looking shocked but thoroughly amused.

 

“You are more than welcome to stay, Will,” he smirked, running a hand through the hair that his twin had done a good job of ruffling. “The guest room is always prepared.”

 

At Will’s side, Sebastian snickered.

 

“Yeah, Daddy, take us to bed,” he giggled. “We’ll show you a good time. Right, Will?”

 

A strangled noise of embarrassment was the best Will could manage in response. His face burned and he wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him up.

 

“Christ, Seb,” he muttered. “How much did you drink?”

 

Sebastian’s only reply to that was another snicker, his hands gliding over Will’s shoulder to start tugging at his tie. Dr. Lecter only smiled all the wider.

 

“Perhaps another time,” he chuckled, almost fondly. “I think our dear Sebastian could benefit from a better night’s sleep than he will undoubtedly get here. I would offer to drive you, but I fear I’m somewhat over the limit myself.”

 

Will batted Sebastian’s hands away,

 

“It’s fine,” he assured the other man. “Plenty of cabs in the city, right?”

 

“Indeed. Allow me to call one for you.”

 

*

 

To say the cab ride back to Seb’s apartment was difficult would have been an understatement. Deprived of his lover, his twin turned all his lustful attentions onto Will. In private, Will would have never considered this a problem. However, with a very confused taxi driver stealing peeks at them through the rearview mirror, it was a disaster waiting to happen.

 

“Seb,” Will hissed, as his brother attempted to nuzzle into his throat for that half-dozenth time. “You can’t do that here. Behave yourself until we get home, and I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

 

Seb made a filthy noise under his breath and Will had to bite his lip to stave off his growing erection. Thank fuck it was dark.

 

“I wanna come, Will,” whispered Sebastian, with an impish smile. “Will you give me that?”

 

“Yes, fine,” the younger man muttered. “Just keep your hands to yourself until we get back to the apartment.”

 

Sebastian pouted but he did do as he’d been asking, straightening enough for him to look like a drunk man leaning on his brother, rather than a drunk man desperately trying to get in his brother’s pants.

 

The cab driver dropped them right outside Sebastian’s building and Will gave him a hefty tip in the hopes that anything he’d seen would be kept to himself. He half-carried Sebastian up to his apartment, nudging away wandering hands and dodging kisses until they were safely ensconced inside. With the door shut, he surrendered at last to the impulse that had been plaguing him for weeks. Lips met in a hungry, desperate kiss that made Will groan. He tugged Sebastian flush against him, devouring his familiar taste, drowning himself in the comforting bouquet of his scent.

 

“Fuck,” he panted against identical lips. “Oh God, Seb, you’ve no idea how much I needed this.”

 

Sebastian grinned, drunk but not without his faculties. Both of his hands cupped Will’s cheeks, pressing their foreheads together.

 

“Course I do,” he purred. “You think ‘cause I have Hannibal I don’t still want you? I always want you. You’re mine, Will.”

 

A pained, wanton sound spilled from Will’s lips. He kissed his brother fiercely again, cock full and throbbing eagerly in his suit pants. Ignoring the archway through to the living room, where he knew the couch was made up waiting, he instead guided his twin down the corridor that led to his bedroom. The collapsed together onto the mattress, Will on the bottom, Sebastian giggling and pulling at Will’s tie.

 

“You looked so fucking hot in this suit tonight, Will,” he panted, as he wrenched off the offending garment and threw it into a corner. “I thought Hannibal was gonna come in his pants when he saw you.”

 

Will was working on Sebastian’s own tie - a thin, silk affair in the same burgundy as his suit.

 

“If he did, it would only be because he like the idea of _you_ in this suit,” he pointed out, between nipping kisses to the other’s jaw.

 

Sebastian hummed, arching his back, but he shook his head.

 

“I think not, somehow,” he whispered. “I think he’s developing a taste for Grahams - multiple.”

 

His alcohol-addled fingers began to tug at Will’s buttons. Will tried not to think about the implications of Seb’s words. Shit was getting weird enough between him and the shrink already; he didn't want to add to that with them due to be working together.

 

Dragging his hands down his twins back, he grasped at the older man’s ass, bringing their clothed erections together. The friction was heaven. Sebastian hissed and ground down, his eyes going glassy with lust.

 

“Will!” he whined. “Will, baby, I want you so much.”

 

“I’m right here,” panted Will. “Oh God, Seb, I feel like I could come already.”

 

He was so ridiculously hard and Seb’s dick felt wonderful rubbing against his own, even through the layers of their clothing. They moved together in a greedy rhythm, hips rocking and lips colliding in fevered kisses. Sebastian managed to get Will’s shirt open and he slipped his hands inside, caressing every inch of skin he could find.

 

“I wanna come like this,” Seb breathed, licking into Will’s mouth. “Fuck, it’s so hot. Reminds me of when we were teenagers.”

 

“I dunno how Dad never caught us sooner,” agreed Will, and he gasped when his twin thumbled a nipple. “We were such horny little shits.”

 

“Don’t,” mumbled Sebastian. “Not now… I’m getting close.”

 

Will wrapped his legs around Seb’s waist and rolled them over, smirking down at his older twin.

 

“I could slow it down, if you like,” he whispered, and he chuckled at Seb’s whine. He had no desire to back off now. It felt too good to stop, too good to deny himself any longer. He ground down hard, arching his back as pleasure curled, tight and hot, in his belly. “Ugh, Sebastian,” he gasped. “I’m getting close too.”

 

Sebastian whined high in his throat, thrusting up to meet every one of Will’s movements. It was ridiculous how good he felt. They weren’t even touching each other and yet he was already on the edge.

 

“Ugh, if Hannibal could see us right now,” the older twin laughed, breathlessly. “I bet he really would come in his pants.”

 

Will tried not imagine it, he really did. He tried not to think of Seb’s haughty, aristocratically handsome boyfriend messing his expensive trousers just watching them fuck but _God_ , it was one hell of a mental image. The heat in his belly intensified.

 

“Shit,” he muttered. “Shit, Seb, I’m gonna come!”

 

“Good,” his brother groaned. “Come on, baby boy, give it up for me…”

 

He raked his nails down Will’s chest, hard enough to sting, and then Will was coming hard, head thrown back, voice a hoarse shout of pleasure as his hips jerked erratically. Beneath him Sebastian trembled and moaned, gripping hard at Will’s waist.

 

“Will,” he panted. “God, Will, I love you. I love you so much.”

 

Sweaty and sticky, Will collapsed on his twin’s chest, his heart pounding. He could feel his semen soaking through his boxers to dampen his trousers but he couldn’t quite bring himself to move.

 

As the rush of release faded with each panting breath, he began to feel more and more like a dick. They weren’t supposed to do this anymore. He was meant to be keeping his distance. Jesus, Sebastian was seeing someone, for fuck’s sake. What was wrong with him? Why did it always keep coming back to this?

 

“I love you, too, Seb,” he whispered, and he buried his face in his twin’s chest. “Too much.”  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, Will's chapters always end up being too long once they're written out. Apologies, there were meant to be corpses in this one but the boys got a bit carried away. 
> 
> I actually had Seb being a bit naughtier in an earlier draft of this, including neck biting and on top of the clothes crotch fondling ;) but it just didn't feel right. So if you think drunk!Seb's a bit of a tart now, well, he could have been so much worse! 
> 
> Next time!


	10. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will behaves oddly the morning after his night with Sebastian. 
> 
> Sebastian finds himself cornered by an ugly proposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your amazing responses to the last chapter! I'm so glad the Will/Seb goodness is going down well! There'll be more of that to come but, for now, have some morning after awkwardness.
> 
> CW for the f-slur. Used by a very unpleasant individual.

Sebastian had been drifting in a dreamless sleep when a shrill and unfamiliar noise jerked him rudely into consciousness. It was a less than pleasant awakening, to say the least. His head was filled with a wicked, thumping pain. His throat was dry and his mouth tasted like he’d spent all night licking the sidewalk.

 

“Ugh, fuck,” he groaned, slowly cracking his eyes open.

 

Seb was no stranger to hangovers. This one was particularly ugly but he found it impossible to harbour regrets, not when he remembered the way Will had kissed him last night, the desperate, wanton sounds he’d made as they’d brought themselves to completion. He recalled the devotion in Will’s eyes as he’d stripped him and the scent of his shampoo as he’d drifted off to sleep. Beautiful Will, who was currently curled up at Sebastian’s side, eyes screwed shut and mouth pulled into a grimace. The hideous electronic chiming hadn’t stopped and Will seemed as offended by it as Seb did.

 

“Shut that thing off, will you?” he mumbled drowsily, curling in on himself further. “Tryn’a sleep, here.”

 

Sebastian chuckled, ignoring the way it made his head throb, and reached out to run his fingers through his twin’s dishevelled mop of curls.

 

“Pretty sure that’s your phone making all that racket,” he smirked.

 

Will stiffened. His eyes flickered and opened slowly, and he lifted his head to squint up at Seb. He frowned, lips twisted in a moue of confusion.

 

“Oh shit,” he winced. Then, a heartbeat later,  “Oh shit! That’s my god-damned alarm! I need to get up…”

 

He sat bolt upright, dragging the sheets with him. Sebastian groaned at the gust of of cool air on his naked body.

 

“Good morning to you too,” he snorted, as Will propelled himself out of bed, avoiding Sebastian’s eyes. The older man watched his twin scrabbling on the floor for his pants. They were lying where he’d left them - in a crumpled, semen-stained heap by the bed - and he had to bend over to retrieve his phone from the pocket. Sebastian wolf-whistled.

 

“Nice ass,” he grinned. “Why don’t you bring it back over here so I can love on it a little?”

 

Will shot a wry look over his shoulder as he silenced his phone.

 

“Knock it off, Seb,” he muttered. “I gotta get dressed. I need to be in Quantico in less than two hours or Jack’s gonna kill me.”

“You’ve time,” shrugged Seb, rolling onto his side. His head protested the movement but he ignored it, propping himself up on an elbow to watch. “Come on, I’m cold. Come back to bed.”

 

“How do you not feel like shit?” Will asked, opening a dresser drawer and pilfering a pair of Seb’s boxers. “You drank half your boyfriend’s fancy booze collection last night.”

 

Sebastian laughed.

 

“Please, that was a drop in the ocean,” he smirked. “But you’re right, I do feel awful. You should come take care of me.”

 

He tried for a seductive pout but it was lost on Will, who was still avoiding his eyes, dragging a hand through his hair.

 

“Sebastian,” he muttered, sounding pained. “We really shouldn’t. Last night… it wasn’t a good idea.”

 

Seb’s sighed and he swallowed a bubble of disappointment. They’d been here before. This was their dance - two steps forward and one step back. He was used to it by now, or so he told himself as he watched Will slip out of the bedroom. He just had to be patient.

 

Abandoning the comfort of his bed, he snatched up his robe and followed in his brother’s wake. It came as no surprise to find him in the living room, rifling through his overnight bag in search of clothes.

 

“At least let me make you some coffee,” Seb suggested, leaning on the door jamb. “Or some breakfast. I’ve got those bagels you like.”

 

Will glanced up from the pair of khakis he was pulling on.

 

“There’s really no need,” he said, as he zipped up his fly. “I can get something on the road.”

 

He pulled a plain white t-shirt out of his duffel bag and pulled it over his head. Sebastian frowned watching all that lovely, creamy skin concealed from his gaze again.

 

“Will, you don’t have to run away from me,” he sighed. “If you’d rather pretend last night didn’t happen then fine but don’t hide from me - I can’t bear it when you do that.”

 

His twin paused at that, a slightly rumpled plaid shirt in his hands. He tilted his head in Sebastian’s direction but didn’t quite meet his eyes.

 

“I’m not,” he said, quietly. “I can’t, you know that. Not anymore. I just… really do have to go.”

 

Sebastian refrained from rolling his eyes, nodding instead. He recalled the first few times this had happened, how painful the bitter sting of rejection had been. Now… well, it was disappointing, certainly, but it no longer tugged at his heart with the same raw urgency. Will would be back. He always was. Even with his work and his preference for solitude, they had never been able to stay away from each other long.

 

The younger twin was tugging on his boots now, sitting down on the made up couch - a token, really, that they both had known would go unused - to tie his laces. Sebastian stalked the edges of the room until he stood before him, close enough so he could smell the detergent of his clean clothes mingling with the scent of them. It roused something fierce and primal in him and, before he could remind himself to be patient, he was leaning down to capture Will’s mouth in a kiss. The room wobbled unpleasantly behind closed eyelids. His head throbbed and Will uttered a muffled sound of surprise, followed by a desperate whimper. He tried once to pull away, a token resistance, before curling his fingers in the fabric of Sebastian’s robe. He rose without breaking contact and Sebastian wrapped him tightly in his arms, crushing him against his chest.

 

“We shouldn’t,” Will panted, against Seb’s lips. “Fuck, we really shouldn’t…”

 

“So you keep saying,” murmured Sebastian, licking at the corners of Will’s mouth. “And yet, here we are.”

 

Will hummed, though whether it was in agreement or objection, Sebastian had no idea. They kissed for a moment longer, clutching at each other for support, until Will finally pulled away, bright eyed and flushed.

 

“I really have to go,” he breathed, heavily. “And you… you should go brush your teeth, you taste like the inside of a whiskey barrel.

 

Sebastian laughed.

 

“Fair point,” he grinned. “You gonna join me?”

 

“I’ll clean up at work,” Will mumbled, though there a shy smile curling at the corners of his mouth now. “We both know if I stay any longer, I’ll never get there on time.”

 

“So be late,” Seb shrugged. “It’ll be worth it.”

 

Will managed a chuckle that time, shaking his head as he bent down to pick up his duffel bag.

 

“I don’t doubt it,” he smirked. “But I don’t fancy getting myself fired.” He shouldered his bag, fixing his twin with a warm but tentative look. “I’ll see you soon, ok?” he offered.

 

Sebastian nodded, beaming, knowing better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He didn’t move to stop Will again as he made for the front door, pausing only to offer a whispered “Bye” before he was gone. His twin stared after him, hugging his arms around his own chest. Without Will, the room felt so much colder and he contemplated going into the kitchen and making that coffee. However, he wasn’t sure his stomach would thank him yet, so instead he padded back into the bedroom. The scent of sex still lingered, clinging to their ruined clothes from the night before. Seb smirked as he slipped back into bed, snatching his phone up from the bedside cabinet. He brought up the last number on his call list and pressed the dial button. It rang a handful of times before a familiar, accented voice answered.

 

“Sebastian,” Hannibal greeted on the other end of the line. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this early. Did you have a pleasant evening?”

 

There was a smirk in his voice, knowing and playful. Sebastian grinned.

 

“Oh, it was a delight,” he purred. “Missing something, though.”

 

Hannibal laughed.

 

“One thing at a time, darling boy,” the doctor murmured. “No need to scare him. Tell me, how was Will this morning?”

 

“A little rattled, truth be told.”

 

“As you expected he would be.”

 

“Yeah, though there was a marked improvement,” noted Sebastian, brightly. “He didn’t quite run off with his tail between his legs this time.”

 

A thoughtful hum echoed down the line.

 

“Then we shall take that as a victory, however small,” said Hannibal, and Seb could hear the tinkling of china in the background; no doubt Hannibal was already having breakfast. “I shall do my best to reassure him if I see him later.”

 

Sebastian’s brows raised in surprise.

 

“Are you two meeting today?” he asked, wondering why he hadn’t been made aware of anything last night.

 

“I have an appointment with Agent Crawford, to formalise our arrangement,” Hannibal explained. “I can only presume that, as it concerns Will, he will also be there.”

 

Seb nodded, relaxing back onto his pillows.

 

“Makes sense,” he shrugged. Then, with a fiendish grin, he changed the subject. “So, tell me… did _you_ have a pleasant evening, Dr Lecter?”

 

Several times on the cab ride home he’d thought of Hannibal, wondering if the other man had gone straight upstairs to jerk off the moment they’d left. Somehow, he doubted it. Horny or not, the man was a stickler for a tidy house. Imagining him tackling the remains of their dinner party with a raging hard-on almost had him cackling into the phone.

 

On the other end of the line, he heard Hannibal’s breathy chuckle and could practically picture the look of playful admonishment on his handsome face.

 

“Not quite as fulfilling as yours, I imagine,” he uttered. “but not without satisfaction.”

 

Sebastian grinned at that, his cock giving a twitch of interest in spite of his hangover.

 

“Is that so?” he smirked. “Would you care to exchange notes? Quid pro quo, if you will?”

 

He head the gentle clink of metal on shina - a spoon being set on a saucer, perhaps? Then Hannibal’s suggestive hum rumbled in his ear, sending a ripple of heat right down Sebastian’s spine.

 

“I have some time before I’m due at the office,” the doctor murmured, his voice deceptively casual. “Where shall we begin?”

  


*

  
  


It was a little past seven when Sebastian pulled into his parking spot later that evening. Working through a hangover was never pleasant but it had to be done and he was feeling better for it. Shutting off the engine, he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his phone. Nothing yet from Hannibal or Will. He doubted either of them were still at Quantico but it was a long drive back and his brother especially needed to decompress after a day of being around other people. He wasn’t worried; one or both of them would give him an update in due time.

 

Instead, his mind turned to thoughts of what to do for dinner. He needed to go grocery shopping and, frankly, without Hannibal around to try and impress, he couldn't be bothered cooking anyway. There was a nice Greek restaurant a few blocks over that delivered. An order of beef stifado and a glass of something red and heady would be just the thing he needed.

 

Gathering up his briefcase, he exited his Audi and was locking up when he noticed a man leaning against the wall of the empty spot beside his. Sebastian didn’t recognise him. He was tall and thin, probably in his mid-to-late thirties, with dark hair and slate-coloured eyes. His appearance and attire were unremarkable - jeans, sneakers and a parka - but something about him instantly had Seb on edge.

 

“Sebastian Graham?” the man called out to him and, instantly, his sense of wariness doubled.

 

“Um, yeah,” he muttered. “Do I know you?”

 

A quick glance around confirmed the underground parking garage was otherwise empty; not a promising sign. The man smirked, cold and unfriendly.

 

“Not exactly,” he shrugged, perfectly nonchalant. “I’m the guy who dropped you off here last night.”

 

Sebastian frowned. The taxi driver?

 

“Ok…” he said, slowly. “Can I help you or something?”

 

His apprehension was slowly climbing and he found himself cataloguing potential weapons in case this turned nasty. There was a small utility knife in a section of his briefcase. If he could get it open in time…

 

His kept his eyes firmly on the driver, noting the way he grinned.

 

“You can,” the man nodded. “And help yourself in the process.”

 

He reached into the pocket of his coat and Sebastian’s grip tightened on the handle of his briefcase. If the fucker had a gun, well, he wasn’t sure what he could do against that. To his surprise, however, the man only pulled out his cellphone. He tapped in an unlock code and then took a couple of steps towards Sebastian, holding the phone in his outstretched hand. Sebastian hesitated for a moment but then he was moving too, taking the phone and staring at the screen. Waiting to be played was a video file. It was a bit dark and not the best quality but it clearly showed the view of a backseat of a taxi. His heart skipped a beat as he recognised himself and Will. He was huddled at Will’s side, his face buried in his twin’s neck and his hand squeezing his thigh. Even in the poor light of passing streetlamps, the swell of Will’s erection was clear. Sebastian swallowed, his grip tightening on the phone as he was inundated with a wave of cold fury.

 

“You should have listened to your brother,” he driver smirked, snatching the phone back, “And kept your hands to yourself.”

 

“What the fuck do you want?” he hissed, levelling the man with his most venomous look. The driver simply grinned, unashamed and unafraid.

 

“I think $50,000 is fair to keep this from getting out, don’t you?” he shrugged. “A small price to pay.”

 

Rage cluded Sebastian’s vision and it took a great deal of self-control for him not punch the guy’s stupid, cocky face in.

 

“What makes you think I have that kind of money?”

 

His voice was shaking in anger, his fists so tightly clenched that his nails were likely cutting into his palms. The scumbag laughed again, his thin lips curling in a sneer.

 

“I’ve done my research,” he promised. “You might be an incestuous fag but you’re doing well for yourself. Fancy job, fancy apartment, fancy car. Something tells me you’re good for it.”

 

“And what’s to stop me from beating your ass and taking your phone?” Sebastian snarled, taking a menacing step forward. There were no cameras in the garage, a fact the man likely knew when he’d chosen to confront him here.

 

“What kind of fucking dumbass do you take me for?” the driver laughed. “You think this is the only copy? Fuck no. I’ll delete them all once I’ve received my payment in full. Forty-eight hours should be enough, I think.”

 

Sebastian breathed deliberately through his nose, running through his options. The man could be bluffing. If that was his only copy then there was nothing to stop him from killing the fucker now. And yet, he couldn’t take the risk. If he disappeared and the cops found that video, it would lead straight to him. No, for now, at least, he would have to play along.

 

“This could do a lot of damage for you, if it gets out,” the man was saying, making no show of hiding his glee. “ Everyone will know. You’ll probably lose your jobs. Hell, your fed brother could even end up in jail - pretty sure incest is illegal in Virginia.”

 

He tilted his head, arrogant in his victory, and it took everything Sebastian had not to rip his stupid, scheming tongue out.

 

“Fine,” he hissed. “I’ll get you your fucking money. But this better be the end of this.”

 

The driver chuckled.

 

“I’m a man of my word, Mr. Graham,” he smirked. “”Like I said, forty-eight hours. I’ll meet you back here then.”

“What if it’s busy?” Sebastian frowned.

 

The man snorted, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and moving to an older black sedan, two spaces over.

 

“I doubt it will be,” he shrugged. “But we can go elsewhere, if that’s the case.” He opened the driver’s side door and slipped into the clean but well-worn leather interior. “See you in two days, Mr. Graham. I don’t think I need to tell you not to go to the cops.”

 

He grinned again and then he was shutting the door, locking it audibly from inside as he started his engine. Sebastian watched him drive away, trembling with anger, and made a note of his license plate number.

 

The money wasn’t a problem. Between his savings and a couple of other assets he’d invested in, he could raise the $50,000. But that wasn’t the point. The driver had threatened his twin and for that he would die. It was the only way.

 

All thoughts of dinner forgotten, Sebastian took off through the garage towards the elevator. He’d have to take the next couple of days off work, call in sick if necessary. He had a lot of planning to do and only two days in which to do it. Not ideal but he could make it work. It crossed his mind that perhaps he should tell Will but he dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come to him. Will had enough on his plate at the moment with the Chesapeake Ripper. A nuisance like this he could take care of himself.

 

Smiling, he leaned back against the elevator wall, contemplating how he was going to do it this time. The blackmailing piece of shit had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. Sebastian looked forward to educating him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. That guy done goofed and now he's gonna get it. 
> 
> Next Chapter: Hannibal puts a skittish Will at ease. Then kills some more. ^_^


	11. Irony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal meets with Jack and a guilty Will at the BAU. 
> 
> An unfortunate swine loses his innards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for gore at the end.

A smile curled inexorably at Hannibal’s lips as he traversed the halls of the BAU. To be here invited really was the most delicious form of irony. To be assisting with the very investigation into his own work? Well, it was safe to say the fates had certainly smiled upon him of late. 

 

He hadn’t expected Sebastian’s less-than-subtle hints about having both twins to ever amount to anything. However, with very minimal maneuvering on his part, it seemed he was on course to do just that. Will Graham would be a challenge but he did so enjoy the thrill of the hunt. And if he could get Will to to see him, to truly know him? All the better. 

 

Will was already waiting in Jack Crawford’s office when he arrived. The door was open but he knocked politely all the same, prompting both men to look up. 

 

“Dr. Lecter, you’re right on time,” said Jack, by way of a greeting. “Please, come and have a seat.”

 

Hannibal slipped into the room, closing the door behind him. He caught Will’s eye as he took up in one of the chairs before Jack’s desk and the look of shame he saw there was incredibly amusing. Apparently, even his blatant reassurances of last night had not prevented the younger man’s guilt. 

 

“Hopefully this won’t take up much of your time,” Jack began, settling into his chair opposite them. “We just have a few particulars to iron out and the paperwork to deal with.” 

 

Will raised a brow. 

 

“Paperwork?” he repeated. “Are we doing this all above board, Jack?” 

 

Jack levelled Will a wry look.

 

“Crossing the I’s and dotting the T’s,” he nodded. “They’re insisting on it. Now” - he reached into a drawer and pulled out two identical, ivory document folders - “I’ve had the legal team draw these up. They’re a variation on the standard consultancy contract, amended to suit our particular needs” 

 

He handed a copy each to Will and Hannibal. Hannibal opened his and glanced at it, but didn’t really pay it much mind. 

 

“Now, of course, your fees are laid out in there, as per our previous discussions,” Jack went on, folding his hands upon the surface of his desk. “I’ve also made sure to include the agreed upon terms of this arrangement.” 

 

“‘Dr. Lecter and Special Agent Graham are to meet no less than once a week, at their convenience,’” Will read out, sounding peeved. “Sounds an awful lot like therapy, Jack.” 

“‘At your convenience’ implies otherwise,” Jack retorted. “You can meet in a bar, for all I care, I just want you turn up and be honest about how you’re dealing. That’s the only thing Dr. Lecter is obligated to report back on.”

 

“Do you have a preference as to the format of these reports?” asked Hannibal, watching Will glare at the document out of the corner of his eye. 

 

“An email is fine. I’d be happy enough with a phone call but the board will want some kind of written record.” 

 

“Of course. An email it is, then.” 

 

“And Will?” Jack said, his tone becoming firm, “I want your word that you’re going to cooperate on this. Are you prepared to be forthright? To defer to Dr. Lecter if you’re having issues?” 

 

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” smirked Will, sardonically. 

 

“Kind of what we’re trying to avoid, Will,” Jack frowned. 

 

The rest of the relatively short meeting passed in a similar fashion. Will was endearingly sullen towards Jack Crawford, though he reverted quickly to squirming in guilt every time Hannibal addressed him directly. It was amusing but not what he wanted and, once the contracts had been signed and their business with Jack concluded, he made the decision to do something about it. 

 

“If you’ve nowhere to be, Will, perhaps you might join me for a cup of coffee?” he asked, as they left Jack’s office together. “Assuming there’s somewhere nearby we can obtain one.” 

 

Will paused, either surprised by the request or discomfited; Hannibal suspected both. He was close enough now that the doctor could scent him The usual aroma of his awful aftershave was not quite enough to erase the notes of sweat and, beneath that, ejaculate that clung to his skin. 

 

“Not sure the cafeteria is up to your exacting standards, Doctor Lecter,” Will replied, acerbically. Hannibal’s lips twitched, torn between irritation and delight. 

 

“I’m sure it will suffice,” he smiled. “If you don’t mind leading the way?” 

 

Will gave him a sceptical look but relented with a sigh. 

 

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered. “Guess I need to talk to you, anyway.” 

 

Hannibal didn’t question what it was in regards to - the man’s guilt was hanging over him like a storm cloud. He followed obediently as Will led him down several long and twisting corridors, down a flight of stairs and through a pair of double doors off  large vestibule. The cafeteria was clean and functional but otherwise unremarkable. Will ordered them two coffees and they took up residence in a small table in front of a window. It was quiet, which suited Hannibal just fine as he curled his hands around the cardboard take-out cup, relishing the warmth, if nothing else. He watched Will add an obscene amount of sugar, no doubt an attempt to mask the fact that the coffee was clearly burnt. Hannibal doubted it would make much difference. 

 

“So, I was with Seb last night,” the younger man admitted, staring at his cup.

 

“You say this with an air of confession, Will,” smiled Hannibal, deliberately playing dumb. “I was well aware of your intentions to stay with your brother.”

 

Will glanced up at that, his expression twisted into a frown that was equal parts frustration and discomfort. It was incredibly endearing, particularly the little lines that formed on his brow, the way his lovely lips almost pouted. 

 

“What?” he muttered, lowering his voice. “No, that’s not… I mean we were  _ together _ . You know-”

 

“Yes, I know, Will,” Hannibal chuckled, putting the boy out his misery. 

 

“You do?” 

 

He seemed genuinely surprised by the revelation. 

 

“Yes. Forgive me but I have a rather sensitive sense of smell,” the doctor admitted. “I can detect his aftershave on you, amongst other things.” 

 

Will’s eyes widened and he flushed, glancing away again. 

 

“It also happens that he told me,” added Hannibal, with a small smile. 

 

“Oh,” Will blinked owlishly at his coffee. For a moment, he seemed incapable of speech. He sipped at his drink, wincing at the heat, and set it down again. “You really don’t mind do you?” he said, eventually, side-eyeing Hannibal from beneath the protection of his glasses. 

 

“Did I not say as much last night?” Hannibal reminded him, gently. 

 

WIll conceded this with a slow nod of his head. 

 

“I just don’t understand why you’d agree to it.” 

 

“Really? I find that hard to believe, given your abilities. Perhaps you simply don’t wish to believe it true. My presence gives you a convenient excuse not to act on your desires” 

 

The younger man’s expression soured quickly. 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he glared. 

 

“Merely that you seem to struggle indulging yourself,” Hannibal replied, lightly. “I meant no offence. Allow me to explain. I am fond of your brother, Will. His happiness pleases me and you are in instrumental part of that happiness.” 

 

He smiled a mollifying smile across the table. Will, however, merely raised a sardonic brow. 

 

“So this is entirely altruistic on your part?” 

 

“I don’t believe I claimed that,” the doctor responded. “Would you judge me terribly if I said I wished to get to know you too, Will?” 

 

Will’s brows crept ever higher on his forehead. It was fascinating, really, that the man’s empathy seemed to have a blindspot where his own self-worth was concerned. 

 

“Oh, I see where this is going,” he sneered, leaning back in his chair. “You got a twin kink, Doctor?” 

 

“If I have a kink for anything, Will, it is remarkably minded individuals who provide a balm to the banality of everyday life… regardless of whether they come in pairs.” 

 

Will seemed to consider that.

 

“I can believe that about you,” he said, after a beat. 

 

“Let me be clear - this is not conditional,” Hannibal assured him. “I won’t revoke my approval if you’ve no wish to engage with me beyond the professional. Though I hope you’ll at least consider it.”

 

The man was silent again for a moment, his fingers toying with the cardboard sleeve around his cup.

 

“I… I guess,” he said, without looking up. “I mean, I’ll think about it.” 

 

Hannibal’s lips curled in a genuine smile. 

 

“That’s all I can ask,” he purred. 

  
  


*

  
  


Hannibal performed the severing cut with elegant flick of the scalpel, neatly removing the face of his victim. The man - already dead after having his organs removed - had been a particularly loathsome antiques importer who had attempted to swindle Hannibal out of a great deal of money like he was some inexperienced yuppie. When he’d been caught in the act, the man had simply smiled his oily smile and assured it was an honest mistake. Hannibal had left with his card and the knowledge that he would pay dearly for his gall. 

 

And so he had. After an eventful afternoon at Quantico and a solitary dinner, Hannibal had tracked his prey to a seedy little stripclub downtown, where the importer would wile away his time whilst his young wife believed him to be working. From there it was just a matter of waiting for the man to leave, sitting in his rented car in the dimly lit parking lot. A bloodless blow to the head rendered him unconscious for the short drive to his own warehouse. From there, Hannibal had immobilised him but left him alive as he’d carved into his body and removed his innards. The horror and agony in his eyes as he’d died had been nothing less than what he deserved. 

 

Now, he was to be something greater than he could ever have hoped to achieve on his own - a message for Will. Face removed, Hannibal set it in the cooler alongside the lungs and kidneys. The face would be destroyed, of course, but the rest could be put to good use. Indeed, perhaps it was about time for him to host another of his dinner parties. He’d need to orchestrate a few non-Ripper kills to obtain enough meat but the idea was appealing. If nothing else, it would be an excellent excuse to see Will outside of their work. 

 

Hannibal arranged the body on its knees, kneeling as if in supplication. The chest containing the offering he placed in its lap, a hand on either side. His lips twitched as he considered Will analysing the scene some time later, wondering if he’d find the same levity in the contents that he had done selecting them. Assuming, of course, he figured out what they were. He would not be leaving the key to the chest at this particular crime scene. No, that would come later, if his dear Will earned it. Hannibal had little doubt that he would. 

 

His work done, he returned to his unremarkable rented car and stowed the cooler in the trunk. His protective clothing would have to be steam cleaned and sanitised at home so, for the time being, he simply removed it and place it carefully inside its bag. The car, rented under one of his many aliases, would have to be returned to the drop off point but that would not take long. He could be home and in bed before long, sufficiently rested for the call that would no doubt come in the morning. It was thrilling, almost as much as the kill itself, to know that he’d be attending the scene with Will. He could scarcely wait to see that remarkable empathy turned upon his work, to see if Will could possibly be that which he’d never hoped to find. 

 

He supposed only time would tell. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, apologies for this being a bit shorter than usual but it was being a stubborn bitch to write. 
> 
> Next Time: Will and Hannibal attend their first crime scene together.

**Author's Note:**

> Next Time: Hannibal meets the other brother and comes as close to making a tit out of himself as a man of his calibre is likely to do.
> 
> (i.e. not very)


End file.
